Three Wise Men
by CelticWolfman
Summary: In the aftermath of 09.11.2001, Harm is transferred out of JAG to the Pentagon to work as a legal expert on a key project in the War on Terror. His replacement at JAG, his new coworkers and Mac become factors in a changing personal life. [Complete]
1. A Star in the East Office

_A/N: First off, remember that the crew here are all shippers so we write Harm/Mac stories. We're going to ask you guys to put a lot of trust in us when you read this because it's going to get tough for Harm and Mac at some points. _

_A/N2: This is our attempt at a Romance/Angst/Political Thriller/Action/Adventure_

_Guest Starring: Eric Bana as Undersecretary of State Nathan Ross_

_ Ed Burns as Agent Mike Bradley_

_Christopher Plummer as President Russell (Later Chapters)_

_(The girls do our casting)_

"Harm, take a seat." The Admiral motioned to a chair in front of the large desk. Mac was sitting next to him in the other chair. Harm was taken aback by the Admiral's use of this first name. The Admiral was twiddling his thumbs trying to stall until the cavalry could show up and maybe deliver the news for him. He waited for minutes in silence, trying to search for the right words to explain. After about six or seven minutes, he decided to just go forward with the news.

"People, there's no dancing around this. One of you two is getting promoted. At the same time, whoever that is, is being shipped out of JAG for a special project that's being run out of the Pentagon. With the new War on Terror, the Joint Chiefs of Staff needs a team of specialists who know how to fight an enemy without a face, or a state. They've got the State Department golden boy and the CIA's crack agent on the team and now they need an advisor that knows international and military law. That is where you two come into play." The Admiral stated. "The project is being called 'The Three Wise Men', basically if anything's going to happen in this war, these three are going to be advising it."

"So, what are you saying, sir?" Harm inquired, looking over at Mac.

"I'm saying that any minute, the other two wise men are going to be coming through that door to tell me which of you two, they would prefer to take the job. This job is optional for that person, if they turn it down, the other person automatically has been drafted by the Joint Chiefs for this post. Sorry, people, there is literally no way to keep both of you at JAG this time." The Admiral admonished.

"Sorry we're late, Admiral. Traffic coming into Falls Church on the Beltway was a shit-storm." One of the men said as they barged into the office.

"What have you got for me, Agent Bradley? Which one of my people do the Chiefs want for this project?" The Admiral questioned in a gruff tone.

"The decision got in from the Situation Room an hour ago. Commander Rabb is who they want for this. The way the Chiefs see it, we're under General Morton's operational umbrella out of branch SOCOM command at the Pentagon anyway. The Marines are already involved and despite Colonel MacKenzie's linguistic attributes; we need someone with combat experience as well as International Law expertise. Commander Rabb is our third wise man." Agent Bradley informed.

"Alright, Commander Rabb, looks like the ball is in your court." The Admiral stated.

"Well sir, aside from the opportunity this would present for my career it's a chance to play a central role in the American war effort; I don't think it's something that I can pass up." Harm replied.

"I had a feeling that neither you nor the Colonel would pass up this opportunity. I'll be sad to see you go, son." The Admiral admitted as he opened the drawer to his desk. "Attention on deck!" The Admiral called which caused pretty much everyone but Agent Bradley to snap to attention. "Commander Rabb, it is my distinct honour to inform you that you have been promoted to the rank of Captain, raise your right hand."

The Admiral led the recital of the oath of office which Harm had to repeat in turn before the Admiral shook his hand and attached the new shoulder-boards to Harm's summer white uniform. Harm turned to Mac who fired off a quick salute. "Congratulations, Captain Rabb." Mac stated with a smile.

"Thanks, Mac." Harm smiled and turned to his two new co-workers. "So, I have to work with you two, huh?"

"I'm Undersecretary of State Nathan Ross." The one man in a sport coat and slacks extended his hand.

"Special Agent Mike Bradley." The man in jeans and a John Lennon t-shirt extended his hand as well.

"You think you two can handle him? He tends to go off like a cruise missile some points." Mac joked.

"Don't worry about that ma'am, I did NROTC and a three year stint in the Marines; I was a Lieutenant with the 1st MEF when we liberated Kuwait International Airport during Desert Storm; if I couldn't handle a Squid, I'd still be disgracing the Corps." Nathan stated.

"Oh great, I go from working with one Marine to working with a Marine and a Spook." Harm deadpanned.

"Alright, there will be a wetting down for Captain Rabb at McMurphy's at 1900 this Friday, I'm sure if he isn't pissed of at the two of you or in the brig for killing you by that time, you two will be there." The Admiral suggested.

"Why not, could be fun?" Mike stated as he, Nathan and Harm left the room.

"I wish I was a fly on the wall in that office." The Admiral joked with Mac.

"Why's that, sir?" Mac smiled as she took her seat.

"Colonel, those two are liable to drive Rabb up the wall. Ross is a former Marine Lieutenant who speaks seven languages and has more education than some tenured professors. Bradley used to be partnered up with Clayton Webb but they separated the two when they realized that Bradley actually had potential." The Admiral informed his chief of staff. "In any case Colonel, we now need a new senior attorney. Lieutenant Commander Austin will be reporting to Headquarters tomorrow at 0900."

"Lieutenant Commander Meg Austin, sir? As in Harm's old partner?" Mac questioned incredulously.

"Yes, I was rather impressed with her performance when she was originally assigned to Headquarters; I think she'd be an excellent addition. Problems, Colonel?" The Admiral looked across his desk at Mac.

Mac was caught. There were no professional grounds on which for her to object to Meg's assignment, if she objected at all it would be on personal grounds and then she would have to admit to the Admiral that she was steaming beneath her silks every time she thought of Harm and that just wouldn't do.

1356 ZULU

JAG HEADQUARTERS

FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

When Meg walked into JAG, the first sight that she saw was Lieutenant Bud Roberts moving from the break room to his office. She looked around for other familiar faces, one in particular. Yes, Meg was trying to find the handsome face of her former partner, Harmon Rabb. There seemed to have been a staff overhaul at JAG. She didn't recognize anyone other than Bud.

"Commander Austin, nice to see you again, ma'am!" Bud said jovially as he walked over to Meg.

"Nice to see you, too, Lieutenant." Meg smiled as she shook Bud's hand. "I was unable to find Commander Rabb; do you know where he is?"

"Yes, ma'am, the Captain has been transferred out, he's now working on a high staff anti-terrorism assignment out of the Pentagon. You were actually called in to replace him, ma'am." Bud explained.

"Can anyone really replace Harm, Lieutenant?" Meg returned with her typical Texas charm.

""No ma'am, I guess not." Bud smiled with a chuckle.

"Commander Austin, you're a sight for sore eyes." The Admiral joked as he entered the bullpen.

"I'll take that as a compliment, sir." Meg replied with a smile. Mac chose that moment to come walking out of her office with the purpose of making her presence known to the new arrival.

"This is Colonel MacKenzie." The Admiral motioned toward Mac.

"Oh, I know, sir. Harm used to call me all the time a few years ago and tell me about cases that he and the Colonel worked on." Meg went to shake Mac's hand.

"Really? I wasn't aware that Harm kept in contact with you, Commander." Mac smiled in a sarcastic sense.

"All Harm did for the longest time was brag about this brilliant and tough new Marine partner of his. It's been an awful long time since he called though. The last time was when he told me that he was going back to fly." Meg commented in response to Mac's remark.

"Yes, well, can we please get on with the staff meeting people?" The Admiral overrode the conversation and directed their attentions toward the conference room. The staff meeting went over well with Meg meeting most of the senior staff. A short while later, the Admiral was standing outside his office with Sturgis Turner.

"It appears that you've turned the tables, sir." Sturgis commented.

"How's that Commander Turner?" The Admiral retorted.

"Well I heard about the Bugme situation a few years back and I'd say that you have the reverse of that now, sir." Sturgis observed.

"I don't think so, Commander. Mr. Rabb isn't even in this office." The Admiral sounded confused.

"Sir, as long as he's in DC, this is a powder keg that's going to go off." Sturgis warned.

"Yeah, maybe, but at least we don't have to deal with Renee Peterson this time." The Admiral joked.

1441 ZULU

THE PENTAGON

ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA

"Gentlemen, this is your office." The civilian-military liaison stated.

"The place looks like a dorm room." Harm commented.

"Oh, yes sir, the person who came up with the project figured that this would be the most conducive atmosphere. I believe the reasoning that they came up with was that in university you always felt like you had something to prove and these three gentlemen have something to prove to the world." The man stated.

"And just what do we have to prove Mr. Starkey?" Mike turned on the man.

"That you can fight terrorism, sir." The young man replied innocently.

"The boys upstairs sure don't ask much of three guys do they?" Nate joked.

"Anyway, at Captain Rabb's disposal we have all the daily briefings from military intelligence, a state of the art computer system, a handy copy of international law statutes and a UCMJ. At Agent Bradley's disposal, the daily intelligence community briefings, his own state of the art computer set up and direct phone links to the DDCI at Langley, MI6, CSIS and the BDN. Also, Agent Bradley, you'll have a visitor from the Hoover building once a day at 1030 hours. Finally, for Undersecretary Ross we have your own computer set up, direct phone links to Moscow, New York, London and a secure outside line. You all have a common TV that does have satellite so that you can get the BBZ, Al-Jazeera and ZNN. You have a personal staff of twenty-one, which means seven staff-members at each of your disposals; Captain Rabb all of yours are Navy. You will have noticed that each of you have a bunk in here, you're not robots, but you will be pulling long hours and the brass know this."

"What about food?" Mike Bradley questioned sceptically.

"There is a kitchen staff for you. Only slightly smaller than the President's and with the same resources. As you no doubt noticed on the way in, in the outer office, you each have your own private secretaries or in Captain Rabb's case a yeoman. Forward all requests to them, they'll make sure that the appropriate people hear it. Will there be anything else gentlemen?" Mr. Starkey stood in the doorway.

"No, that'll be all." Harm stated with a weak smile.

"Very good. Gentlemen, on a personal note, I just wanted you to know that a lot of us, well, we've put a lot of faith in you three guys." Starkey stated.

"Who's 'us', Mr. Starkey?" Harm asked.

"The American People, sir." Starkey replied before exiting the room. Harm, Nate and Mike were left standing in the room looking around at their new office space.

"They couldn't even give us our own offices." Mike commented sardonically.

"Yeah, well at least this room is big enough that I can ignore you guys if you piss me off." Harm joked.

"42 inch plasma screen television. They really went all out for us." Nate commented as he flicked the TV on. "Which do you prefer? ZNN or the Beeb?"

"Never watched the BBZ couldn't tell you." Harm admitted as he sunk into the soft leather chair behind his desk.

"Definitely the Beeb, I got this thing for English women ever since Liz Hurley." Mike joked as he threw himself down on to the bunk.

"Easy Mike, your intended might not be to happy about hearing you talk like that." Nate warned.

"Becky and I have an understanding. I can leave her for Liz Hurley, she can leave me for Brad Pitt, short of that, we're in this for the long haul." Mike joked. The three men decided to settle into their respective corners of the office. The briefings from the previous night had piled up on the desks and they were busy trying to rapidly get up to speed with the current state of information with regard to the United States efforts against terrorism. It was in this position that General Morton found them when he barged into the office at 1127.

When Morton barged in, both Harm and Nate sprang to their feet. Mike just kicked up his feet on his desk and continued to read his reports. "At ease, gentlemen. I shall make no secret of the fact that when I initially heard that I was to be assigned to this project, I was less than enthusiastic about having to baby-sit one Navy Captain and two civilians. When I found out that one of you was a former Marine I felt only slightly better about the whole thing. The fact is that we're doing important work here. You three men are better capable, according to high level judgement at State, Langley and the Pentagon, for tracking and preventing international terrorism then any other three men in the United States. You will need SOCOM co-operation, that's why I'm your Commanding Officer. Any questions?"

"Yeah, since I was never military do I have to salute you?" Mike stated sarcastically which caused Morton to roll his eyes.

"A salute is a symbol of respect, Mr. Bradley. You might not have ever served the country but I would hope that you would at least show some degree of respect for those who have." Morton retorted, firmly placating the CIA agent. "Now, in nine days, time, that's next Saturday, there will be a formal State Department reception at the White House. You're all expected to attend. Captain Rabb, your Mess Dress would be the uniform of the evening. Mr. Ross, as your commission is still on reserve status, it would be appropriate for you to wear your Mess Dress as well but it's not necessary. I'm sure that you've become rather accustomed to wearing those nice tailored suits since your departure from active duty."

"Yes, sir but it does feel good to don the old Marine green, or in this case, blue, once in a while. Especially for special occasions." Nate replied.

"Good, that'll be all, gentlemen. Good luck and Godspeed." Morton turned on heel and walked out of the office, closing the door with the same fury he used to open it.

"Welcome to the Pentagon." Mike joked as he brought his hands up over his face.

"I suppose we should actually do some work." Harm stated as he sank back into his chair.

2358 ZULU

MCMURPHY'S TAVERN

WASHINGTON, DC

"So, tell me about these guys that you work with?" Mac sat down at the bar next to Harm.

"Well, Mike kind of reminds me of what Keeter would be like if he was really sarcastic. But he's certainly a better representation of the kind of Agent that Langley needs, then Clayton Webb is." Harm rolled his eyes slightly. "Mac, I don't know, I thought I'd hate this assignment, you know I hate being chained down to a desk, I love being out in the field working on investigations. But, I mean, just this morning I got to sit in my desk and watch as my two cohorts were tracking down a terrorist money trail. It hit me that what I'm doing is nothing but constant investigative work. I mean, officially I'm only in there for international and military law purposes but we pick each other's brains on everything." Harm sounded really enthusiastic.

"You didn't tell me about the other guy you work with." Mac commented, pleased to see that Harm seemed to be enjoying his new assignment.

"Nate? If I'm being honest, Nate reminds me of Jack Ryan. I mean, Nate's as much of a Marine as anyone I've ever met but he's got a natural investigative mind. It's also funny to know that he can tell his diplomatic counterparts to 'fuck off' in seven languages." Harm laughed as he ordered his drink.

"So, they're taking care of you over there?" Mac asked tenderly.

"Yeah, they're a good group of guys." Harm smiled fondly. "The place will never be JAG of course but I'm glad that I'm in a place where I shouldn't go stir crazy from not being in the courtroom."

"I think Morris is just happy that he doesn't have to worry about his courtroom turning into a free-fire zone again." Mac joked lightly. "I miss having you around. There's no one to get on my nerves." She smiled weakly.

"Oh come on, Mac, I'm sure that they'll have a replacement in there that will be just as good as I am at getting on your nerves." Harm nudged a little closer to her on the barstool. Just as Mac was about to make a comment about how no one could replace Harm, Harm's eyes wondered and got wide as they caught some far off sight. Harm got up off the barstool and walked across the bar. Mac didn't have to turn on her seat to know that Meg Austin had just walked in.

"Now, Lieutenant, you're not going to leave without saying goodbye this time are you." Harm stated in his best authoritative voice as he walked up behind Meg.

"It's Lieutenant Commander now, sir." Meg replied as she turned around to face Harm. Harm pulled her into a tight hug.

"How have you been Meg? God, we haven't talked in so long." Harm admonished as he led her over to a table. "And what are you doing back in DC?"

"First of all, I'm fine, sir and I'm back in DC because I was transferred in to fill a vacancy for a senior attorney left by one _Captain_ Rabb." Meg smiled her cute little smile.

"So you're the one replacing me at JAG? At least the Admiral had the good sense to bring in another squid." Harm laughed as the waitress brought over drinks for the two of them. Harm and Meg spent the next few minutes getting lost in their nostalgia.

Sitting back at the bar, Mac had never felt so alone. Finally, a time in her life when there were no real barriers between her and the man that she loved and then the biggest threat to any future relationship between her and Harm got transferred back to JAG. Life sucked.

"Looks like you and I are the only Marines in the whole damn place are you and I, Colonel." Nate said as he leaned up against the bar.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Ross." Mac replied formally. Mac took her time to observe him. Nathan Ross was pleasing to the eye; certainly, it couldn't hurt to talk to him a little more. Unlike most guys who talked to her in a bar, he didn't seem to be coming on to her. He'd merely pointed out the fact that they were both Marines.

"I don't know how you do it, Colonel; I always was on edge around Navy types. I mean Harm's cool but I don't know, I guess when you're a Marine, you just have a certain comfort level in a group of Marines." Nate observed.

"Tell me about it. I love the family I've got at JAG, but sometimes you just miss hanging around with other Marines. Why did you get out of the Marines?" Mac asked, now genuinely curious why someone who seemed to like Marine culture so much would willingly choose to leave the Corps.

"Well, I'm not technically out. I do have a reserve commission but after Desert Storm, my CO told me that the Marine Corps was no place for idealistic officers. He was right, the Corps is for realists. I went to Princeton, got my Masters in International Relations and went to work for the State Department." Nate decided to finally sit down next to Mac.

"Your CO was full of crap." Mac commented. "Idealistic Marines just end up as JAGs." She laughed lightly.

"Yeah, well, with my linguistic skills and negotiating talent, the State Department was a natural fit. I became one of their top diplomats in a decade. That's an impressive rise to the top, or at least so my superiors tell me." Nate took the soda that the bartender handed to him. "Is that why you ended up at JAG? Another Idealistic Marine?"

"I'd like to think so. I really do believe in justice, I really do believe that no matter who they are, everyone is entitled to a fair trial. I like to think that while it isn't perfect, our justice system is in place to make sure that our country functions on the principles of right and wrong, guilt and innocence…"

"Crime and punishment?" Nate guessed.

"Yeah, but some days, I don't know. Some days I just look out of the window in my office and wonder if I'm making a real difference." Mac admitted coyly. "I guess that sounds kind of shallow, huh?"

"Not at all. I've sat down across the table from world leaders of over eighty countries and negotiated them into arms embargos and anti-drug crackdowns and even I get that feeling. Just staring out at the world and knowing that it's so big and I'm just one man trying to change it." He hunched over the bar slightly.

"To idealistic Marines." Mac raised her glass.

"I'll drink to that." Nate raised his glass so it made contact with Mac's. Nate watched as Mac turned her attention over to where Harm was standing with Sturgis, Bud, the Admiral and Meg. Mac's gaze fell on the fact that Meg had practically cradled herself against Harm's shoulder and he didn't seem to be paying any mind to that fact.

"Here we go again." Mac muttered just loud enough for Nate to hear.

"Let me guess, you're wondering what he sees in her?" Nat jibed.

"Is it really that obvious?" Mac was caustic as she turned back to her companion.

"I can tell you right now that it has nothing to do with blonde hair or blue eyes. Look at their body language." Nate nodded over in the direction. The Admiral and Sturgis were trading shots about something that was obviously causing them a great deal of laughter but it appeared to be Meg that was returning the shots instead of Harm. "When does he touch her?"

"After she says something." Mac replied.

"And what's his expression." Nate pursued.

"He seems slightly surprised, like he might have anticipated it, but she's surprised him nonetheless." Mac furrowed her brow slightly.

"Harm's touches signify reassurance and gratitude. Whatever the Admiral and Harm's friend are saying, it's obviously at Harm's expense. She is jumping in to defend Harm, while maintaining solid footing in her position at his side which is a natural supportive position. She's making him feel good about himself and he's responding in kind." Nate concluded.

"Since when does the State Department need body language experts?" Mac snapped prematurely.

"Every negotiation is an interrogation. Body language is essential, you can read weakness, trepidation, force or brutality from posture, expression of subconscious movements like stroking your hair or twiddling your thumbs. If you can read these signals you can always come out victorious." Nate explained while idly drawing circles on the bar with his index finger.

"So what you're saying is that Harm's enjoying her attention?" Mac questioned.

"Not entirely. Yes, he's enjoying her attention but that's not all that's going on there. Single men, especially those over the age of thirty, subconsciously look for wife and maternal tendencies. You can look at this and tell that she adores him and every man loves to feel that a woman adores him. Adoration is an oft underplayed emotion because it's often misconstrued as being submissive." Nate finished off his soda and motioned for another one.

"So she's making him feel like a big man?" Mac questioned.

"Partly. Every little boy wants to be a rock star or professional athlete for a reason. The feeling that there will be women who look upon you in awe. That does wonders for your self-confidence. Self-confident people are more open with what they're feeling. It's completely possible to accept that someone is flawed and adore them anyway, in fact you can even adore their flaws. That's what we're laying witness to right now, a woman who completely adores a man despite the fact that she knows his flaws." Nate picked up his soda from the bartender.

"Fine, explain how you can have all this great insight and not be married." Mac fired back.

"Me? Oh that's simple. I'm an idiot. As are most single men. A single man needs to have it spelled out for him when a woman is attracted to him, otherwise, he'll go chicken most of the time. It's a rare few that go for it." Nate concluded. "I could turn the question back on you if you promise not to hit me for a few observations."

"Well if you're going to make those observations, we should probably be on better terms than Colonel and Mr. Ross. My friends call me Mac." Mac extended her hand in a gesture of friendship.

"Nate." Nate shook Mac's hand. "Alright, now that we've got the formalities out of the way, do I have your promise that you will not strike me for making a few observations?"

"As long as they're not vulgar." Mac replied.

"Nasty words coming out of an Ivy League mouth? Never. I was simply going to state that as far as I have observed this evening you appear to have an incredibly astute mind, a fierce passion for things you care about and as far as physical attraction goes a man would have to be several weeks dead not to notice you. Outside of your sense of humour, which I've yet to witness, one couldn't help but marvel at the fact that you're still single." Nate observed.

"I think you just gave me more compliments in that little spiel then I've heard all year." Mac smiled self-deprecatingly. "Are you sure that you're not coming on to me?"

"I'll settle for being your friend. You seem like a good person, Mac." Nate's voice sounded incredibly genuine. Mac didn't understand what Harm meant when he said that Nate reminded him of Jack Ryan. The Nate Ross that sat next to her at the bar was certainly well spoken but he didn't seem to have the same kind of edge that the protagonist that she'd read about in so many Clancy novels, seemed to have. Then again, she hadn't worked with him.

At 2230, Mac walked over to wear Harm was standing, noticing that for the first time in almost three hours, he was without Meg at his side. "Hey Harm, we haven't really had the chance to do anything since you left for the Pentagon. How about a half and half pizza and a trip to Blockbuster?"

"I'd love to Mac, but I already promised to drive Meg home. Raincheck?" Harm asked, after a noticeable wince.

"Sure." Mac answered with a weak smile. Sarah MacKenzie walked out of McMurphy's feeling truly alone. There was a feeling prodding at her heard that she had not felt since the night that she went to Harm's only to find him comforting Renee after her father died. Only this time, it was a different blonde. There was a rationalization peaking at the corners of Sarah MacKenzie's mind. It told her that Harm and Meg were only friends; partners once upon a time. A little part of Sarah MacKenzie closed off. Another part that was marked 'heartache' was added to the countless others that had accumulated in the years she'd known Harmon Rabb.


	2. The Ball

A/N: You remember that trust that we asked for in Chapter 1? You're really going to need it for this chapter. By the way you guys really came through with the reviews and we're elated to have such devoted readers.

Harmon Rabb was panicking. It had been a long week at the Pentagon. At 1550 on Monday, the first news on Yassir Faraz came in from Langley. The entire week had been spent trying to gather whatever intelligence they could on Faraz. Of the 'three wise men' as they were known, Harm was putting in less hours then Mike or Nate were. If Harm had to guess, he'd say that Nate had spent the better part of fifty hours on the phone this week with contacts all over the Middle East and North Africa. By the end of the week, the three of them had compiled over three hundred pages of intelligence on Faraz.

What they knew was simple. Faraz was a French-Algerian who was well educated and had an established terrorist network that extended from Algiers to Afghanistan. He was co-operating with Al-Qaeda, he had contacts inside the Moubarak and Qaddafi governments and he had private bank accounts numbering into nine figures in Switzerland, Luxembourg and Grand Cayman. Late last night, Nate had struck a deal to shut down the accounts and had even managed to have the accounts brought under the jurisdiction of the Treasury Department, a strategy that Harm had developed. Soon after, Langley found out that Faraz had gone to ground.

None of this had Harmon Rabb panicking. No, it was Friday night and tomorrow was the State Department reception at the White House and he needed a date. That was what had Harmon Rabb panicking. So, now he was back at his old stomping grounds at JAG Headquarters. There were certain ego boosts that came with being an O-6, like the fact that now, whenever he strode into the bullpen, the sergeant at arms would call "Attention on deck" which gave Harm the privilege to put everyone at ease.

"Bud!" Harm called across the bullpen.

"Captain, sir." Bud returned with a smile as he moved toward his office.

"Bud, is Colonel MacKenzie around?" Harm asked looking around the bullpen.

"Sorry, sir. The Colonel and Commander Turner are on investigation at Camp LeJeune and they aren't expected back until tomorrow." Bud explained somewhat sombrely.

"Oh, well at least Mac will have the consolation of having been with Marines this weekend." Harm joked.

"Yes, sir." Bud smiled and chuckled. "Why are you asking for the Colonel, sir?"

"Oh, I have to go to this fancy formal reception for the State Department tomorrow and for appearances sake I'm supposed to show up with a date. Mac hates these things anyway; she used to bitch about going to them with Lowne all the time." Harm smiled.

"Are you talking about the President's reception tomorrow night, sir?" Bud inquired.

"Yeah, I suppose so, Bud." Harm looked confused.

"I guess you're really rubbing elbows with the big brass now, sir." Bud admitted solemnly, thinking that maybe Captain Harmon Rabb was too busy or too important to hang out with the people that Commander Harmon Rabb cherished.

"So Bud, how are things going around here? How's Harriet getting along with Meg?" Harm inquired, loving the opportunity to talk with his friend.

"You know, sir, it's really weird. They get along like sisters. Commander Turner thinks that they giggle too much. I'm not entirely sure what he means by that, sometimes I think he doesn't like it when people smile." Bud stated which caused Harm to chuckle.

"You know what, Bud? Keeter used to complain about the same thing at the Academy." Harm joked. "Doesn't change the fact that I need a date for tomorrow night, though."

"Why don't you ask Commander Austin, sir?" Bud questioned.

"Bud, that's genius! Thanks!" Harm gave Bud a friendly pat on the shoulder before sprinting across the bullpen to Meg's office.

"Why do I have a bad feeling about what I just did?" Bud mused aloud.

Harm walked over to Meg's office and stood in the doorframe. She looked so serious, so anti-Meg, sitting there, hunched over a desk trying to furiously work through a stack of paperwork. Harm reached into his pocket and produced the invitation to the reception that had crossed his desk on Monday afternoon. "The President of the United States extends an invitation to Captain Harmon Rabb Jr. and a guest of his choosing, to attend the State Department reception to be held at the White House on January 29th." Harm read the invitation out loud. Meg looked up to see Harm standing in her doorway.

"Now, Captain, you wouldn't perhaps be hinting that you would like me to accompany you." Meg toyed.

"You said it, Commander, not me. I merely read the invitation." Harm flirted right back.

"What a shame, I was just wondering what I was going to do tomorrow night, I guess I'll just have to wash my hair then." Meg smiled cutely.

"Well, what would you say if I said that I knew this Navy Captain, who has this new job and needs someone to accompany him to a fancy reception for that new job and he just happened to know this pretty Navy Lieutenant Commander that he wouldn't mind having accompany him?" Harm moved into the office.

"I'd say that your friend should just come out and ask this girl." Meg replied.

"Good advice." Harm turned to head out of the office. He got to the door and turned around to face Meg. "Hey Meg, how'd you like to go to the President's party with me tomorrow night?"

"I'd be delighted, sir." Meg replied.

"On the condition that you call me Harm." Harm added.

"Sure, Harm." Meg was trying to hold in exactly how thrilled she was.

It was late that night when Sarah MacKenzie and Sturgis Turner pulled into JAG. The investigation at LeJeune had been a nightmare but it had been one that they were able to sort through ahead of schedule. The whole way home, all Sturgis had been able to talk about was this big function that Bobbi was dragging him to at the White House tomorrow night. She couldn't help but have her mind wander to Harm. Her best friend was now a very vital part of the American War on Terror. So, Mac went into her office at JAG to collect a few things before heading home. She noticed a note that Harm had left on her desk.

_Hey Mac, stopped by earlier to see if you wanted to go to this stuffy reception I have to attend tomorrow night at the White House. Hell, I don't know why I'd even ask, I remember how much you hated going to these things with Lowne. Talk to you later!_

Mac went walking with a great determination out into the bullpen; colliding with Bud halfway to the elevator. "Oh, sorry, ma'am." Bud scrambled.

"That's okay, Bud. Bud, can you tell me when Captain Rabb stopped by earlier?" Mac asked.

"It was only about two or three hours ago, ma'am. He was talking about this thing tomorrow night at the White House. When you weren't here, he was really worried that he wouldn't find a date. I suggested that he take Lieutenant Commander Austin and he must have asked her because she went home with a very big smile on her face, ma'am." Bud stated innocently. Mac felt her heart sink. At least Harm would have asked her first, right? That had to count for something. Not much though. Now Harm was going with Meg.

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Mac forced a smile. "Bud, what are you doing here so late?"

"I have the Hewitson case, ma'am. It's a Capital case so I figured I should make sure that there are no avenues left unexplored." Bud remarked as he moved off toward his office.

"Lieutenant, it's Friday night. Work on it at home, I'm sure your wife and son would like to see you before they forget what you look like." Mac forced a joke as she made for the elevator.

She drove to Harm's apartment, she wasn't sure why. She knew that Harm would never back out on Meg, not after he'd already asked her. She just wanted Harm to know that she wasn't avoiding him after what happened at McMurphy's. Or rather, what didn't happen at McMurphy's. Eventually she made her way to the hallway in front of Harm's door. She stopped for a second before knocking on the door. A few seconds later, Harm opened the door for her.

"Hey Mac." Harm stated somewhat surprised. "I thought you were wading through the backwaters of North Carolina with Sturgis?"

"I was, but we wrapped up early so we headed back tonight. All Sturgis was talking about the whole way home was this gala at the White House tomorrow that Bobbi's dragging him to." Mac commented.

"Yeah, I got an invite to that too." Harm commented.

"I know, I read your note. I also heard that you were taking Meg." Mac tried not to let any emotions seep into her words.

"You weren't in the office and I needed to find a date." Harm protested.

"You could have waited." Mac pointed out.

"Mac, let's not get on to the subject of _waiting_, it won't end well." Harm shook his head in disbelief.

"You're still pissed about Sydney? Excuse me for not clinging to faint hope attached to some cryptic phrase or falling at your feet like Meg Austin or any of your other bimbos." Mac couldn't contain her emotions any longer. Harm had thrown down the gauntlet with that last little phrase.

"First off, Meg is no bimbo, in fact Mac, you may have to deal with the fact that she may be your equal in everything but rank. It's not about falling at my feet; it's about making me feel good." Harm gritted his teeth and prepared to have this one out.

"Yeah, I bet she makes parts of you feel _really_ good." Mac shot back with an obvious insinuation.

"That's the difference between you and Meg. I feel good about myself because Meg makes me feel that way. You, on the other hand, never miss an opportunity to cut me up." Harm returned fire, taking obvious offence at what Mac was suggesting.

"So what, you're pissed off because I don't faun all over you or fall at your feet?" Mac challenged again.

"It's not about falling at my feet. I wouldn't like that from you because I know that's not who you are. It's about you being that same person who sat scared on my couch because she thought Clayton Webb was dead and Clark Palmer was after me. Or that same playful woman who ate dinner with me on my bed because it was the only available place. Or even that woman who smiled like she had been tickled the first time that she pulled her new corvette into JAG. I miss that Sarah, hell, once upon a time I was madly in love with her but I haven't seen her in a long time." Harm explained, calming his tone and demeanour in the process.

"Harm, I just…" Mac tried to back-pedal, the strength of some of the words he was using wasn't lost on her.

"No, Mac, you're just making excuses and that's another thing _that_ Sarah wouldn't have done." Harm walked over and opened the door, signalling that he wanted Mac to leave. "Tell me when you find her, I miss her an awful lot." With that Mac walked out of the apartment and Harm closed the door behind her.

Mac needed someone to talk to. Things with Harm had hardly gone to plan but he had started it with that waiting comment. God, why could they never just be on the same page at the same time. Now, with all the professional obstacles out of the way, it should have theoretically been easier, but things were never easy between them. What she needed right now was someone she could talk to, someone who could answer questions; a wise man. Mac went to look for phonebook.

0145 ZULU

NATE ROSS' APARTMENT

PENTAGON CITY, VIRGINIA

Mac didn't know why she was standing here. Outside of a week earlier at McMurphy's, she had only spoken to Nate Ross a few times and that was via email but he seemed like nice guy. Well, she hoped he was nice enough to not mind a discussion about her and Harm at this hour. He said he wanted to be her friend, he was a fellow Marine, and they never left anyone behind. So, bravely, Mac knocked on the door to the apartment.

"Coming! Coming! Wait up!" The voice called from inside the apartment. Nate opened the door wide wearing only a fluffy peach towel that covered the area from his waist to his knees. "Mac?" He inquired in a state of shock.

"Do you always answer the door like that or am I special case?" Mac replied with a laugh, trying to come to terms with the fact that an attractive man was mere inches from her and his integrity was being maintained by only a few inches of cotton.

"Do you really want me to answer that question or are you going to tell me how you found my apartment?" Nate questioned as he invited her in.

"You're listed in the phonebook. I needed a friend to talk to, I was hoping that you wouldn't mind." Mac sat down in the big recliner in the living room.

"No, I was actually kind of bored sitting around watching TV alone. So, I took a shower and ordered in. It should be nice to have someone to talk to. I should probably change first." Nate walked back off toward his bedroom before emerging a few minutes later in a USMC t-shirt and PRINCETON jogging pants. "So, what's up, Mac?" After a few seconds of observing her hesitant body language, Nate put his skills to work. "Alright, it's about a guy, because if it wasn't, you wouldn't be this hesitant about telling me. It's about Harm, because your thumb twiddling tells me that your nervous about telling me and the only reason that would be is that it would be someone we both know. The only person we both know is Harm."

"You're going to have to tell me how you do that." Mac commented lightly.

"It's a gift." Nate smiled. "This has something to do with the woman from last Friday doesn't it?"

"Yeah, um, Harm and I got into it because he's taking her to that White House gala that you all are invited to tomorrow night." Mac explained.

"Ah, I see. Even though you're not dating him, the green-eyed monster came through and you two fought. Amazing how jealousy can override logic, isn't it?" Nate chuckled slightly.

"Alright smart guy, if you know everything, what am I supposed to do now?" Mac sounded sarcastic.

"Nothing. The emotions are too fresh, let them settle and then attack the issue with a clearer head at a later point. I may have no idea how many issues there really are between you and Harm but there seems to be a lot. You're not going to get anywhere trying to tackle them all while you're running on misguided rage." Nate explained as he leapt over the back of his couch, landing firmly on his six.

"And until then?" Mac questioned.

"Well, we could sit here eating chips and watching movies on cable?" Nate suggested.

"Sounds good." Mac laughed lightly.

"Hey Mac, if you really want to go to that White House gala tomorrow, I can get you in." Nate cautiously brought up the subject, not wanting to let her get the wrong idea.

"Explain." Mac stated pointedly.

"Technically, you would be accompanying me. However, I probably hate these things more than anyone on the planet. So, I'll be hobnobbing most of the night with high officials. It would give you the chance to get in a few dances with Harm and start talking in a more conducive atmosphere. Besides, you get to wear a nice dress." Nate chuckled slightly as he tossed the bag of potato chips at her.

"You really expect me to believe that you don't have a date?" Mac questioned incredulously.

"Listen, I don't get out of the Pentagon most nights until 2300. I rewarded myself with an early night tonight because I really cleaned up this week. I don't have time for a social life. Besides, I've been told I can wear my dress uniform tomorrow, which means you get to order me around." Nate chuckled.

"You're on. But don't get any ideas." Mac warned with a mock stern tone.

"Me? Ideas? Wouldn't dream of it." Nate tossed back as the two of them channel surfed for a decent movie.

"I did some checking into you, you know? You were a decorated sniper before you left the Corps. I'm not sure I buy that 'no room for idealists' spiel." Mac's investigator instincts were kicking in.

"I should have known better then to make friends with someone who investigates for a living." Nate toyed. "The simple fact is that I picked the wrong side of the political fence to play on for a Marine. I'm a Democrat, a card-carrying, proud Democrat, most of my COs saw that as a weakness and rather than be persecuted for my political beliefs, I scrapped the discrimination and went for a career where it didn't matter."

"Are you trying to tell me that no one at the State Department plays politics?" Mac sounded caustic.

"No, I'm telling you that the time I spent at State, I got promoted for my skills and my political affiliation. With the new Republican administration, I have to keep my personal political beliefs to myself and just do the job. Something I must be doing rather well to get the assignment that they just gave me." Nate explained.

"I don't understand how a Marine can be a Democrat." Mac commented absently.

"Socially, I'm not really. I mean, I'm Pro-Life but I'm Anti-Capital Punishment, my economic and foreign policy beliefs favour to the Democratic. The only thing Republican about me is my social concerns but those don't hold up against the other two." Nate concluded.

"I bet the General really likes that." Mac joked.

"I was waiting for you to bring up my dad. Yeah, well the day I left the Corps was the day we kind of stopped talking." Nate grimaced slightly.

"There's a lot of story to you, Nate Ross." Mac said.

2330 ZULU

THE WHITE HOUSE

WASHINGTON, DC

"Well, at least I get to sit with you and Bobbi." Harm spotted Sturgis at the same table that he and Meg had been assigned to.

"Harm, I'm here too." Mike Bradley walked over in his tux.

"Yeah, but I have to look at your ugly mug every day." Harm commented. "Oh, where are my manners? Mike, this is Lieutenant Commander Meg Austin, my date for this evening."

"Nice to meet you, Meg." Mike shook Meg's hand. "Becky's around here some place. I think she cornered Senator Benton over by the punch. They're old college friends."

"That explains it." Harm joked. Harm, Meg, Bobbi, Sturgis and Mike participated in some friendly conversation for a few minutes until a crowd was gathering near the back of the room. The second Sturgis saw Mac, he didn't have to see whose arm she was on, he just knew that her being here would mean that there would be fireworks playing out tonight. As Mac and her date made their way over, Sturgis prayed that they weren't seated at the same table as Harm and Meg.

His prayer fell on deaf ears. Mac and her date made their way over to the one table that would be able to hold Sturgis' attention longer than the President's table. It was then that Sturgis realized that Harm had obviously seen Mac. "Mac, nice to see you." Harm stated pleasantly enough. "Nate, I didn't know that you and Mac were acquainted."

"We're friends. As you're aware, Nate doesn't get out much with all the work he's doing so he figured he could call in a favour with one of his friends to accompany him tonight." Mac jumped right in, to intervene.

"I didn't realize that you had been promoted to Major, Nate. When you resigned you were only a first Lieutenant, isn't that right?" Harm was pushing the rank card.

"Even reservists get promoted. It just takes us a little longer." Nate returned and snapped off a salute which Harm returned. "I apologize; my indoctrination has slipped slightly after years in the State Department."

There were a few laughs exchanged at Nate's joke. "We can sit, folks, I believe that's what these lovely inventions called chairs are for." Mike Bradley pointed out as he sat in his chair. The other seven people standing around the table decided to take their own seats and wait for the festivities to start. Harm found himself sitting between Mac and Meg, something of a less then enviable position. Mac was wearing a wine coloured dress that clung to every curve, dipped low enough to present but not show off her cleavage and with slit that ran up the side to her mid thigh. Meg was on the other side of him in a midnight blue dress that did wonders for her own curves and drew attention to her legs.

"I'll go get us some punch, huh?" Nate suggested and Mac nodded her assent. Harm asked Meg a similar question and both men headed over to the table at the side of the ballroom to retrieve the drinks.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Nate?" Harm asked in an accusatory tone.

"Listen, Harm, I'm not doing anything. Mac is here **as my friend**, because she came over to my apartment last night and I helped her talk out whatever cluster-fuck situation happened between the two of you last night. Don't try and superimpose some kind of alternate relationship on this. Mac and I are friends; it is actually completely possible to have a woman as a friend without wanting to get into her pants. Harm, you and I work together, I don't leave the office until 2300 almost every night and when I do leave the office I'm dog tired. Hell, at the height of the Faraz thing last week, I spent two nights at the office waiting on phone calls from Tehran. When oh when, would I have had the time to have any kind of relationship during that period?" Nate questioned with more than just a hint of an edge to his voice.

"Listen, alright I'm sorry, I jumped the gun." Harm explained.

"You're goddamn right you did. Now, we're here to have fun. Actually we're not; we're here to make the big time politicians think we're having fun. Now, can you look me in the eye and honestly tell me that you truly believe that Mac is here tonight as my friend only?" Nate questioned, not letting Harm avert his eyes.

"Yes." Harm replied quietly.

"Good. Now I believe the ladies are waiting on some punch." Nate nodded back toward the table and he and Harm moved back over with two glasses of punch each.

"You boys were gone an awful long time." Meg questioned.

"Work stuff, you know how it is." Harm replied as he took his seat. The President delivered his address at the front of the room. Most of the cabinet was there, all but for the Secretary of State, which was odd, considering that this was a State Department function. The President was witty and composed, not delving too deeply into the details.

"And now, I'd like to call up our keynote speaker for this evening. Since, Malcolm Anderson, the Secretary of State couldn't be here tonight, I have the pleasure of introducing his Assistant Secretary of State for North Africa and the Middle East, Nathan Ross." The President stepped away from the podium and Nate made his way up.

"You'll have to forgive me, I just found out last night that I'd be delivering this speech so the language is probably a little rough. As we all know, September 11th changed everything. I'm not going to stand here and tell you that we can't live in a September 10th world. You already know that and my repeating it is pointless. There has been a lot of jargon tossed around that says that terrorism is a stateless enemy. Terrorism is the state, people. It's inhabitants live in the same world of violence and hate, their methods are furthered by complacency and indifference. We do not have the ability to be either.

When I talk to foreign diplomats, especially those with whom our country's relations are slightly strained, they tell me that America must see itself as the policeman on the world stage. The simple fact is that all responsible nations must be policemen in the new world order. In 1946, America stood shoulder to shoulder with our allies after the war to bring 21 Nazi criminals to justice at Nuremberg. In that one act, we were able to put aside our own personal political differences to show the world that violence and hate and aggressive war were intolerable acts and that those persons who perpetrated those acts would have death served upon them.

We must face the fact that terrorists are the National Socialists of the twenty-first century. In many cases, they are worse. Osama Bin Laden has access to methods by which to broadcast his message, that Adolf Hitler could only have dreamed of. Simple facts people. Those preaching fundamentalist terrorism, such as those enemies we have engaged in Afghanistan, engage in the same race hatred that has plagued the world for countless millennia. All September 11th was, was an act of aggressive war.

The question remains; what can we do? The answer is simple. We must stand together. As our fathers and grandfathers did on the battlefields of Europe before us. We must crack down and crack down hard on activities within our own borders and we must be ruthless in our pursuit of terrorism abroad because make no mistake, they are ruthless in their assault on us. We must make the call of liberty and justice the anthem of the twenty-first century and we must be zealous in our attempts to make it so, for if we are not, the anthem of our century will be the explosions of car bombs and the cries of innocent bystanders." Nate looked down the table at the Canadian Ambassador, whose government had recently grown tentative in its support of parts of the American led war effort and a poetic phrase came to mind.

"Canadian poet John McCrae wrote a poem, upon viewing the carnage of the First World War. McCrae wrote "Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw; The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die. We shall not sleep, though poppies grow; In Flanders fields." And though the ground may churn over ground zero, as the poppies return every year to Flanders Fields, we owe it to the 9/11 victims to never forget their sacrifice. Thank you." Nate returned his speech to the pocket of his uniform trousers, shook the President's hand and returned to his seat amidst a thunder of applause that was loud enough to produced ripples in the glasses of water on the table.

"Alright, that's enough with the politics. I'm sure you all would like to dance and mingle and eat." The President encouraged.

"Impressive speech, Mr. Ross, shades of a young John Kennedy." Bobbi commented.

"Senator Latham, that's high praise and I'm certain that I'm not worthy of it." Nate replied. The group at the table enjoyed the meals that had been provided for the evening and after an hour exchanging light conversation, the party seemed to shift to the dance floor. Sturgis and Mike led by taking their respective dates out on to the open dance floor while Nate laughed silently to himself as he watched Harm debate over whether to ask Mac or Meg. Eventually Harm guided Meg out to dance and Nate did the same thing with Mac. "I suppose I'd be a complete clod if I didn't dance with you at least once."

Mac and Nate were both cautious. Their hands joined that same spirit of hesitance. Mac raised her other hand to Nate's shoulder as he placed his hand at her waist only after multiple assurances from her that it was alright. "I don't think I've been this nervous since High School." Nate joked lightly.

"Yeah, I know, both of us seem to have the impression that there are eyes on us." Mac commented.

"Well in that dress, what did you expect?" Nate returned with a smile.

"A compliment? Really? I think you're letting the success of that speech go to your head." Mac played in her normal manner.

"Me? Never." Nate retorted, smiling from ear to ear. After a few minutes of moving rather graciously across the dance floor, Mac was very impressed at the fact that Nate not only hadn't stepped on her feet, he had been secure enough to let her lead on occasion.

Harm was across the dance floor with Meg, doing his best to give her his full attention and all things considered, he was doing a very good job of it. But there was no hiding the glances that he was stealing over in Mac's direction every once in a while. One look at Meg told the average observer that she was absolutely delighted to be where she was. Even Harm, a man who was admittedly dense when it came to reading subtle female signs, as are most single men, could tell that she was really enjoying herself. Despite zealous reassurances from a man that Harm had judged to be honourable, Harm was still unsure of exactly what if anything was going on between Mac and Nate.

Back across the dance floor, Nate and Mac had moved closer to the First Couple who were very evidently enjoying themselves. "Mr. Ross, I enjoyed your speech. I should have you on my staff." The President commented.

"Technically you do, sir. We all work for you, right?" Nate returned.

"I suppose so." The President admitted. He and the First Lady stopped dancing for a second and the President tapped Nate on the shoulder. "May I cut in?" Both Nate and Mac were surprised.

"That okay with you, Mac?" Nate questioned.

"Sure, I mean, I'd be delighted, sir." Mac was flabbergasted, she was sure that she'd never have this honour again. The President led Mac off and Nate smiled at how completely joyous Mac looked.

"What do you say, Madame First Lady, shall we give them some competition?" Nate inquired.

"I've heard about you Marines." The First Lady replied cutely as she extended her hand to Nate who led her out next to where the President and Mac were dancing. After a few minutes, the song ended and everyone clapped for the band. Mac and Nate stood around talking with the President and the First Lady, mostly about Nate's speech, something even Nate himself was rolling his eyes at sometimes. Eventually, Harm made his way over and asked Mac for a dance and Mac accepted. The First Lady had something to attend to with the caterers and the President led Nate over to talk with some Ambassadors from Allied countries.

"So, how are you and State Department Boy doing this evening?" Harm questioned with a notably jealous air.

"Harm, we're just friends. We're here having a good time, would you have referred to him by job if you'd run into us at a bowling alley or in the corridors at the Pentagon?" Mac questioned.

"He said the same thing." Harm muttered under his breath.

"See, now are you going to let go of it?" Mac's tolerance for the jealousy routine was wearing a little thin.

"Excuse me for looking out for you." Harm fired back. "You're my friend and I care for you."

"Really? What happened to the Sarah that you miss? The one that, how did you say it? Smiled like she'd been tickled pink the first time she pulled her car into JAG. Face it, Harm. Those words really hurt." Mac shot back.

"I was just stating that you haven't seemed like yourself lately." Harm protested.

"Lately as in the last two years, Harm? As I recall you seemed to like me just fine one night on the Admiral's porch. Or were you just caught up reminiscing about _that_ Sarah?" Mac questioned.

"Hey, you're not the only one with any right to claim being hurt by words, you basically accused me of hopping into bed with any blonde that looked at me the right way." Harm fired back.

"Jordan, Renee and now you're giving Meg goo-goo eyes. I've got some proof to back up my claim, Harm. Maybe my tone was a little sharp, but one look at the evidence shows that my evaluation of the evidence is correct." Mac stated in a calm tone.

"You want to talk about evidence? Let's talk about Nate. He's a Marine. So there's the Farrow quota. He's a high end educated type. So there's the Lowne quota. And, he's chasing your skirt, there's the Brumby quota." Harm's argumentative skills were at full gear.

"For your information, counsellor, Nate has gone to every conceivable length short of telling me he's gay, to assure me that he wants nothing but to be my friend. Or is that you're opinion of me? Do you think so low of me that no man would just want me for a friend when they could just have me for a fuck? That is, except for you, the illustrious, noble Harmon Rabb." Mac was pursing her lips to fight tears.

"Mac, you know I don't look at you that way." Harm's voice got tender.

"Maybe, but after last night, I have no idea how you _do_ look at me any more." Mac pulled away as the music ended. "Goodnight, Harm." Mac went running out on to the balcony to get some air and let her tears flow.

Bobbi and Sturgis, who had witnessed the whole scene, decided to spring into action. Bobbi went running after Mac and Sturgis stopped to talk to Harm. "Well, I don't know what you said, but I think I can say that you made her cry."

"I don't need grief, Sturgis." Harm laboured over toward their table.

"No, what you need, is to learn to talk to Mac like a woman. Mac's not your colleague and co-worker any more, Harm. You work at the Pentagon now, so if you want to talk to Mac any more, you have to learn to talk to her as a friend and a woman." Sturgis pointed out.

"Your point being?" Harm questioned.

"Too elaborate to explain here. How about a game of one on one this week?" Sturgis asked.

"You're on. I've got enough pent up emotion that I might actually beat you this week." Harm joked.

"Keep dreaming." Sturgis replied.

Out on the balcony, Mac was sobbing quietly when Bobbi came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. "Listen, Mac, I know that we haven't always gotten along, but I do respect you……a lot. If you want someone to talk to, well, I'm here."

Mac turned to face Bobbi and Bobbi could see the tearstains on Mac's face. "Thanks, Bobbi, but right now I'm trying to figure out why every time I talk to my best friend we manage to do nothing but hurt each other."

"You seemed to be on the worse end of the exchange from what I just saw." Bobbi remarked.

"I don't know. I think that the only difference between my words and Harm's was that I was dispassionate in my delivery." Mac responded, shaking her head.

"Well what all happened?" Bobbi leaned on the railing next to Mac.

"Harm accused me of, I don't know I guess basically being a traitor to who I am. I accused him of getting involved with the blondes who cross his wake and he accused Nathan of chasing my skirt. Which I only found offensive because both Nathan and I have gone out of our way to assure Harm that we're only here as friends and I took Harm's implication to mean that a man like Nathan couldn't possibly want me simply as a friend without wanting something more." Mac explained.

"You two really don't make anything easy." Bobbi commented lightly. "First off, criticizing his choice in women was probably not the best move. That having been said, if I had been forced to listen to the same load of bellicose bullshit that you had to listen to, I probably would have bared my teeth a little too. As for Nathan Ross, Harm may have something of a point. Only something, I have no doubt that Nathan wants to get to know you as a friend. That doesn't mean he won't ask you out in the future but knowing Nathan's reputation, that could be a good year or two down the line."

"Nathan's reputation?" Mac questioned, suddenly interested.

"He's not the typical State Department playboy. That's the personal skinny. You want to hear the professional skinny?" Bobbi had turned on her gossip mode.

"Sure, I could use the rumour mill for entertainment right now." Mac smiled weakly.

"Next time the Democrats take the White House, he'll be at the Cabinet table. What chair depends on when the Democrats take the White House and what he does between now and then. At the current pace, if it's four years he could be the National Security Advisor or even the Secretary of State. If it's eight years, conservative estimates put him in the Secretary of State's chair for sure." Bobbi was actually 'dishing'.

"What about the liberal estimates?" Mac questioned.

"Too out there to have any merit." Bobbi stated quickly and Mac's mouth went wide with shock. "It's not every day that the Democrats get a Marine with a war record like his and his foreign policy experience. His home state is Pennsylvania, which tends to swing; he'd be a good candidate for anything."

"What are you trying to tell me, Bobbi?" Mac eyed her friend quizzically.

"That boy is about to become Washington's hot ticket in a few years." Bobbi commented slyly.

"Sounds like you're trying to tell me to get in on the ground floor." Mac replied.

"I'm not stupid. You won't ever look at a man the way you look at Harm. I'm just giving you the Capitol Hill 411." Bobbi concluded as she walked out on the balcony as Nathan came walking out.

"You okay, Mac? I tried to get away when I saw you come running out here but I got trapped by Ambassador Rishkin and, well you know how the Russians can get." Nate smiled.

"Yeah, I guess I'm just a little tired. You mind taking me home for the night? I mean back to my apartment?" Mac corrected.

"I knew what you meant, Mac. Sure. If I'm being honest, another hour around these stuff-shirts and I'd probably hang myself anyway." Nate smiled as Mac offered him her arm and he escorted her into the ballroom, the foyer and eventually out to the car.


	3. After the Ball

_A/N: Alright, we need casting suggestions for an actress born between 1967 and 1971 who could play a government official in a later chapter. Blonde or Brunette is preferable, they have to be able to play an intelligent woman. We don't trust the guys to stay true to vision on that part, so we're leaving it open to you, the readers._

Harm had elected to drive Meg home after the ball. The whole night he felt like a man who was caught between an unstoppable force and an immovable object. True, he had lavished the majority of his attention on Meg this evening. He hadn't missed the looks, the subtle touches that Meg had sent his way. He had been thankful for them and in many cases he had reciprocated them.

For Harm, the night was split into two halves. On the one half, there was everything before the incident during the dance with Mac. For that part of the evening, he felt that everything he and Meg exchanged was some kind of infidelity to Meg. After that incident during the dance, he couldn't get enough of Meg. Their physical touches had evolved well beyond merely friendly touches to open and unabashed flirting and affection.

So, when he was driving Meg home and their hands met on the console, he didn't follow through on his natural impulse to pull away as though he had been burned. She laid her hand over his and gently stroked her thumb over his knuckles. "I had a lot of fun tonight." Meg remarked quietly.

"I realize that I might not have been the best company at points." Harm replied. Settling into the seat a little more fully as the car rolled up to a red light. He looked over at Meg. To say she was breathtaking tonight would have been to damn with faint praise. In the year that they had worked together, they had grown close and perhaps, in the six years since, there was a small candle lit in his heart especially for her.

Harm couldn't help but think about it. Pulling her into that shower when they were in Iraq or the fact that Captain Fuentes thought that they were sleeping together while they were in Cuba; it all came flooding back to him. Along with the memories came the adolescent fantasies. The parts of him that long ago wonder what Meg would sound like in bed as he brought her to the edge. The parts of him that were now wondering what she looked like under that dress.

Harm pulled his Lexus up to Meg's apartment building and threw it into park. "Well, we're here." Harm stated as he felt a fresh wave of nervousness run up his spine.

"Listen, Harm……" Meg started slowly and then laughed in her own nervous way. "I'm not sure I know how to say this but……"

"What is it, Meg? You know you can tell me anything." Harm coached.

"I know." Meg replied. "It's just that this might not be the best time for it. I mean, with everything that happened tonight, the last thing you need on your plate is…" Harm cut her off.

"Meg, you may be cute when you're nervous but you still need to spit it out." Harm joked.

"I just don't want there to be any awkwardness about how I left, I'd really like us to be able to just go back to the way it was." Meg admitted.

"I would really like that, Meg." Harm's hand lightly traced its way up her forearm.

"You think we could start by going up to my apartment for a cup of coffee?" Meg suggested.

"As long as you promise not to take advantage of me." Harm joked as he and Meg climbed out of his car and headed for her the door to her apartment building.

0337 ZULU

MAC'S APARTMENT

GEORGETOWN, DC

Nate's limo had pulled up to the boulevard in front of Mac's apartment. "I still can't believe that the State Department lets you ride around in a limo." Mac joked.

"Only on special occasions and I'm pretty sure that even then I have to be really good in order to get the privilege." Nate joked as he got out of the car after Mac. "I'd ask if you had a good time but even I'm not out of it enough to ask a woman who has cried during the evening if she had fun."

"Well, everything up until the crying was a lot of fun. I mean, I got to dance with the President and I'm pretty sure that being on the arm of the man of the evening made me the envy of every woman in the room." Mac laughed light-heartedly to put him at ease.

"You outrank me, Colonel; technically I was on your arm. I felt like such a boy-toy." Nate threw his head back with a laugh.

"Seriously, Nate, everything up until the crying was actually fun." Mac responded.

"Well then, I'll at least take credit for some part of the evening as proof that I'm not cursed." Nate tossed a weak self-deprecating smile.

"Cursed?" Mac questioned, searching for a story.

"Well, yeah, what would you call it when the most beautiful woman at a ball winds up crying by the end of the evening? Especially when I couldn't go after you because I was intercepted by a Russian Ambassador who was hammered on vodka." Nate threw his hands into his pocket.

"I guess this is where we say goodnight." Mac stated.

"Seems like a good place. It's well lit, no rain or criminals visible, I'd say this is a pretty good spot." Nate replied.

"Do you think everything's a joke?" The question had just fluttered across Mac's mind.

"Well, in my line of work, sometimes you learn to just laugh at the world." Nate replied. "Goodnight, Mac." Not knowing what to do, Nate opted for the safe option of shaking Mac's hand. Surprised by her strength, Nate founded himself being pulled in for a loose hug a few seconds later.

"Goodnight, Nate." Mac replied softly before letting him go and head back to the limo. Mac turned and walked into her building. Nate threw himself down on the backseat and undid a few of the top buttons on his dress uniform in order to feel a little more relaxed. He flicked on the back radio and strains of Dean Martin flooded through the back of the limo. The phone rang, indicating that Burke was calling from the front seat.

"Yes, Burke." Nate said into the phone.

"Pretty girl." Burke stated, inferring that he was talking about Mac.

"She certainly is, Burke." Nate replied smugly.

"Why didn't you kiss her, Mr. Ross?" Burke queried.

"She's not mine to kiss, Burke." Nate replied before setting the phone back down.

1351 ZULU

THE PENTAGON

ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA

"Morning, Harm." Nate chimed as Harm walked into the office. Harm breezed by Nate on his way to the coffee machine. "Mike, don't most people respond when you greet them?"

"Normally, but with you uniform types, I've come to expect anything." Mike Bradley commented as he dove back into the intelligence briefing on his desk.

"I have nothing to say." Harm muttered as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Are you still pissed about Saturday night? Listen, if this going to inhibit the work we do here, I will promise not to do anything with Mac that could even be remotely misconstrued as romantic." Nate pledged and even Mike had to drop his intelligence briefing to watch the scene.

"I thought Saturday wasn't a date." Harm remarked caustically.

"It wasn't, but for whatever reason you think it was. So, if the only way we're going to be able to work together is for you and I to have this understanding between us then I'm willing to do that." Nate offered and he watched as Harm's frigid demeanour softened.

"Why?" Harm's litigator side was beginning to show through.

"Because nothing is more important right now then the work we're doing in this room. You're a vital part of that work. I'm willing to make any sacrifice to make sure that we can get that work done." Nate explained but Harm still looked on with some disbelief. Nate sat back down in his chair and jotted down a few things on a blank piece of paper. "You lawyers deal in contracts, right?" Nate handed Harm the piece of paper. "There's your contract."

Harm took time to read it over. He was surprised and amazed. A new respect for Nate Ross grew in Harm. Once upon a time, Mic Brumby stood in the Admiral's office and proclaimed that everyone who knew Mac was in love with her, if just a little bit. Yet, here was Nate, who was willing to go to lengths to prove that he wasn't. Harm wasn't stupid, he knew that signing this contract was as good as admitting that he still had feelings for Mac, which he did but a lot of hurtful words had been exchanged. "You're serious?" Harm asked.

"You bet your ass. This doesn't mean I'll stop being Mac's friend, this means that there's one line that I'll never cross. Now can you sign it, we've got fresh Intel pouring in over the wires this morning and we need to get to it." Nate pushed the paper at him.

"I'm not signing that. Mac's a big girl, she can make her own decisions, she doesn't need me to make them for her." Harm admitted and in doing so, he knew that he had surrendered all right he might have had to complain if anything happened.

"Captain Rabb, sir? Captain Lester from Navy intelligence has an AWACS picture that he needs to give you personally. He's requesting that you come down to the Navy intelligence office." Harm's yeoman buzzed in over the intercom.

"Tell him I'll be right there, Petty Officer." Harm replied and he went walking out of the office.

"Well, I guess that's good news for you." Mike commented sarcastically from his seat.

"What are you talking about, Mike?" Nate turned toward the CIA Agent.

"Well, Harm didn't sign the contract. You're free to try and date Mac." Mike responded.

"I wasn't going to try and date her anyway." Nate admitted.

"Why not?' Mike was now keenly interested in the little drama.

"First lesson of NROTC is: Never fight a battle you can't win." Nate commented cryptically. He knew one thing. He knew that even if he spurned her, Harmon Rabb would always have Sarah MacKenzie's heart.

SAME TIME

JAG HEADQUARTERS

FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

Mac walked into her office Monday morning to find a note on her desk that was sitting on top of this morning's edition of the Washington Post. The note read; _"Sorry about this, I should have known something like this would happen. To make it up, I'm bringing over lunch. – Nate" _Mac lifted the newspaper to see a picture on the front of her, Nate, the President and the First Lady. Mac read the paper, the columnist had called her Nathan's date but she told herself that she knew the truth and so did he and even if he wasn't willing to admit it, so did Harm and those were the only three opinions that mattered.

Mac's morning was light, after the staff call, she had a court session where she was teeing off against Sturgis. Sturgis was good, but Mac's added intensity after the rather disastrous weekend gave her the drive necessary to chew him up and spit him out with relative ease. By the time they were on the elevator on their way back up to Ops, Sturgis was dragging out a plea and trying to get Mac to agree to it. When she wasn't biting, Sturgis headed back to his office.

Mac was followed into her office by Harriet who was carrying her own copy of that morning's Washington Post. "It's a nice picture, ma'am." Harriet commented, dropping the newspaper on the desk. "Where's Captain Rabb?" Harriet had obviously not heard about Harm taking Meg.

"Harm took Commander Austin to the gala, Harriet. I went with a friend of mine." Mac was careful not to look up from the forms on her desk.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, I guess I just thought that without the chain of command problems that you and the Captain would…" Harriet never got to complete her thought.

"I know Harriet, somewhere in my fool's heart I always hoped too. A long time ago, a poet wrote 'you can't always get what you want.'" Mac commented ruefully.

"But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need." A familiar voice added as he appeared in the doorway. "At least if I remember my Jagger properly from Princeton Lit class." Mac chuckled a little at the comment.

"Harriet, this is Assistant Secretary of State Nathan Ross. Nate, this is Harriet." Mac introduced the two people. Nate reached out and shook Harriet's hand.

"I was driving in from the Pentagon because I promised to bring you lunch and I picked up the only fast food I could find." Nate held up two Beltway Burger bags. "You're not a vegetarian are you?"

"Are you kidding, if you don't toss me that bag in the next seven seconds, Major, I can't be held responsible for my actions." Mac stated and Nate laughed before tossing the bag to her.

"Major?" Harriet questioned.

"Nathan's a Marine reservist and a Desert Storm veteran with the Marine Sniper Corps." Mac explained and Harriet finally understood.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." Harriet smiled cheerily before walking out of the office.

"Now that she knows that you outrank her, she'll never call you anything but 'sir' or 'Major' from now on." Mac laughed lightly.

"I'm just glad that you didn't tell her about my dad. People always freak out when they find out. The first thing out of their mouth tends to be; 'so, you're General Jack Ross' kid.' It bugs the crap out of me." Nate sat down in a chair and opened his own fast food bag.

"Hey, you brought me into confidence about it and I respect that confidence." Mac admitted. "Oh, you got me the Bacon Double Cheeseburger, I might just have to keep you around."

"Nice to know I serve a purpose." Nate retorted. "Good morning in court?"

"Kicked Sturgis Turner's six." Mac smiled widely as she took a bite out of her burger. "He was practically begging for a plea bargain when we got out of court. What about you, anything exciting?"

"Exciting, yes but for every exciting thing I do, there's mountains of red tape and jargon to cut through. Anything I can talk about I can only reveal scant details about, sorry." Nate apologized.

"Hey, I know your work takes it out of you. I think you're the only guy I know who willingly goes into work on a Sunday." Mac jostled him light-heartedly.

"I didn't exactly get a better offer for anything else to do." Nate commented cutely. "Besides, I had an important call coming in that I had to take."

"And the reason that you couldn't have had it forwarded to your cellphone was?" Mac questioned in her best prosecutor tone.

"Would you believe that I never thought of that?" Nate was now laughing at his own technological ineptitude. Mac had to admit, this guy sure did seem to like to laugh and smile a lot. Almost to the point where it became contagious.

"That's it, we have to do something this Sunday to prevent you from going back into work. We have to find someway of bringing you back into the normal world." Mac raised her pop to her lips.

"I'd take offence to that if it wasn't incredibly true." Nate's beeper was vibrating at his hip. He picked it up and read the screen. "I got to head back, it's been fun Mac."

"Sure has, Nate. I'll call you later in the week to set up something to keep you away from work this Sunday." Mac called after him as he walked out of her office.

1757 ZULU

THE PENTAGON

ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA

Nate Ross barged into the office like a Force Three Hurricane. "Alright, what have we got, folks." He threw his overcoat on to his chair.

"These AWACS came into Naval Intelligence early this morning. Apparently a satellite was rerouted last night and early this morning they got photos of a newly erected camp in southern Libya." Harm put the photos down on the big table in front of the TV. "The Henry sent out their AWACS team two hours later to confirm, the photos, this is what they got."

"As you know, last week we got reports that Faraz went to ground somewhere outside of Alexandria, Egypt when we shut down those bank rolls. However, DDCI Reid has a source within the government in Tripoli that says that this is Faraz's camp." Mike pointed out.

"How reliable is this source?" Harm asked.

"Twenty years of reliable intelligence on the Libyan government. We've been using him since Reagan. His codename is Aladdin." Mike stated. "That's not all, we have reports, however unconfirmed, of a chemical broken arrow."

"What! Please be fucking kidding." Nate spouted.

"A canister of Cyclosarin went missing from a known stockpile outside of Groznyy. Our source in Chechnya was able to chase it down as far as the black market, from there, he says it disappeared to a buyer somewhere in North Africa. This means…"

"This means that Yassir Faraz could be in possession of a chemical nerve agent that he could shift into the hands of Osama Bin Laden or even use for his own purposes. But we have nothing but a bunch of unconfirmed speculation." Nate concluded.

"Speculation doesn't build a case." Harm concluded. "What are we going to do?"

"Well, Mike and I are going to go brief the President. You're going to go home, find a way under the START treaty that we can go in and inspect that chemical weapons stockpile this week and then get in here early tomorrow so we can catch a flight. Call me on my cell when you've got the grounds for our inspection." Nate's take charge Marine personality.

"Why can't I go in and brief the President?" Harm questioned.

"Because your expertise is international law, nothing we've learned today is yet to concern you. Right now, we need that START position, but I think we'll settle for a CWC position." Mike walked back over to his desk and packed up the intelligence briefs thereon.

"Lucy, where is Secretary Anderson right now?" Nate punched the button on his intercom, calling his receptionist.

"He's in the Situation Room, Mr. Ross." Lucy informed him.

"Thank you, Lucy. Would you put in a call to him and tell Secretary Anderson that Mr. Bradley and I are on our way over?" Nate questioned.

"Yes, sir, right away, sir." Lucy stated urgently.

2028 ZULU

HARM'S APARTMENT

NORTH OF UNION STATION

Harm was sitting on the couch pouring over clause after clause of the START and CWC treaties to find some reason to get American personnel into a Russian chemical weapons stockpile. He also had spent the better part of an hour trying to understand why Faraz would go out of his way to purchase a Russian canister of toxic nerve agent when the Libyans had their own stockpiles. Harm could come up with at least ten pretty flimsy excuses to send in American officials to inspect stockpiles in Chechnya but none of them would really stand up under international scrutiny.

A sharp knock came at the apartment door. "Come in, it's open." Harm called. The door swung open and Sturgis Turner popped his head in. "Oh right, we were supposed to play one on one tonight, I could really use a raincheck, buddy. I'm going to be on a plane sometime in the next six to eight hours and I need to formalize a legal position before then."

"I brought by Chinese." Sturgis held up the bag. "The whole point of the game was to talk; surely you've got enough time to do that." Sturgis looked at the table and saw copies of the START, SALT and Chemical Warfare Convention treaties strewn about. "Either you're just boning up, or some massive international shit is about to hit the fan."

"Sorry, Sturgis, I can't talk about it." Harm threw his copy of SALT 1 down on the table and reached for a carton of Lo Mein.

"I could help, maybe there's something you overlooked." Sturgis goaded.

"I just don't get it, Sturgis. Something about this isn't shaking down right. I think that's what has my mind fogged. I mean, it's up to the other two members to chase down what's going but, man my gut is telling me that there's more here." Harm was raking his fingers through his hair.

"Well, what are you trying to form a legal opinion on?" Sturgis questioned.

"Actually, that part is pretty SOP; it's just American inspection of a Russian chemical weapon stockpile." Harm stated as he leaned back into the couch.

"So why not just use the entire CWC combined with rightful decommissioning of offensive weapons clause from the START treaty?" Sturgis questioned.

"I thought of that, it just seemed far too weak to me." Harm replied.

"I think that as usual, you're being far too hard on yourself. Like you said, the whole thing is SOP anyway, so legal justification doesn't have to be complex it just has to be satisfactory to both participant parties." Sturgis explained.

"True." Harm got up off the couch. "Beer?"

"Thanks. I think you would have caught on to that justification if your mind was bogged down with other things Harm." Sturgis caught the beer that Harm threw to him.

"I'm not considering the whole Mac-Meg situation; nothing could be further from my mind." Harm protested.

"Really? Than why were you the first to bring it up?" Sturgis questioned.

"I……I knew you were going to bring it up anyway. Besides, there isn't really much to talk about Sturgis. Friday night, after you and Mac got back from North Carolina; Mac came here and told me that she had heard that I'd asked Meg to the White House gala." Harm explained.

"I don't remember you calling Mac's cell while we were on our way home." Sturgis stated with a furrowed brow.

"I didn't." Harm replied.

"Were you going to ask Mac first?" Sturgis inquired.

"Yes, but there's more to it then that." Harm covered quickly.

"Alright, so you wanted to ask Mac, but you couldn't give her the courtesy of calling her. This would have led to her telling you that she would have been home in a few hours and of course would have loved to have gone with you Saturday night?" Sturgis sounded rather sarcastic.

"She looked perfectly happy with Nate on Saturday night!" Harm shot back.

"Really? Would that be while she looked longingly over at you while her 'date' was delivering his speech? Or how about while she and him danced like two nervous teenagers trying to keep their distance so that they didn't give the wrong impression? Harm, the President got closer to Mac physically on Saturday then Nate ever did and you and she were practically sharing feet when you danced together. If I didn't know better, I'd swear that Nate had set it up for the two of you to talk to each other." Sturgis argued.

"Sturgis, don't tell me that you're buying into the whole 'we're just friends' gag." Harm shot back snidely.

"That's what's really bugging you, isn't it? You can't hate this guy like you hated all of Mac's previous boyfriends because he's not chasing her like a hound in heat. He's doing exactly what you did when you and Mac first knew each other and to hate him would be to hate a small part of yourself." Sturgis rose up off the couch. "You're worried that he might actually be real competition for you eventually." Sturgis challenged.

"This is all a moot point anyway. Technically, Mac and I are hardly friends right now." Harm blurted out.

"First off Harm, technically a friend is like technically a virgin, it's really more of an all or nothing deal." Sturgis stated sarcastically.

"Well, on Saturday after the White House I drove Meg home. We sat in the Lexus outside her apartment building and she…well, I thought she was going to kiss me, Sturgis. I mean I thought she was going to _really_ kiss me." Harm elaborated and Sturgis merely nodded.

"Alright, so what happened after you almost made out in your car like adolescents?" Sturgis questioned.

"We did not almost make out like adolescents." Harm's protestations of innocence were genuine.

"Alright, I'm guessing when I called Sunday to set up that game of one on one, you were out with Meg?" Sturgis inquired.

"We were at a movie." Harm forced a smile. "This is one odd little situation I've got myself in, isn't it?"

"No Harm, compared to this, Korea was an odd little situation. What you've got here is a full blown, five star, cluster-fuck with no real workable end." Sturgis admonished and got up from the chair. "I'll leave you to your work, since you have to be on a plane in a couple of hours." Sturgis headed for the door and just as he got their, another knock was heard.

"It's open!" Harm called from the kitchen. Meg Austin opened the door and walked into the apartment carrying some takeout food of her own. "Sorry, Meg, Sturgis had the same idea." Harm pointed to the open Chinese cartons on the table.

"Well, we'll just have to put these in the fridge for later." Meg pouted sweetly as she walked over to the fridge.

"I'll see you later, Harm." Sturgis walked out of the door and closed it behind him. Harm just raised his eyebrow.


	4. Chechnya and Beyond

_A/N: Totally loving the reviews! You guys are great. I know that our group efforts are normally short stories, this one isn't so the Cold War between Harm and Mac, well we can make it longer. Everyone here has come down with Bellisario Angst Syndrome; we apologize in advance, but as Steve Miller said in "Jet Airliner": "You've got to go through hell before you get to heaven."_

A staff car dropped Harm off on the tarmac at Andrews. Mike and Nate were waiting for him by the Lear jet. "You got that legal position locked in?" Mike questioned as they all boarded the plane.

"Nothing's a lock." Harm replied as he climbed the steps.

"This kinda has to be." Mike fired back.

"Not for the Russians. I've been talking to Minister Petrov since you left the Pentagon and his government is in complete co-operation, it's just that if the shit hits the fan on this one, we're going to need a legitimate reason for everything we've done." Nate explained as they all took their seats.

"What you're telling me is that if we find out that Faraz has the chemical, we're going to need me to come up with a legitimate reason to bomb his compound into the Stone Age." Harm was in no mood for dealing with BS tonight.

"That's one of the more extreme measures but the likely end, yeah." Mike admitted. "I think we all need to catch some sleep. We got nine hours to Moscow and then a gas up and meet with Minister Petrov who'll accompany us on the remaining hour flight to Groznyy. Nate, please get some sleep, we're counting on you for our Russian translations tomorrow."

"I'll think about it." Nate shot back as he set up his laptop on the little table in front of him. That was one thing about Government Issue private jets, they tended to look like mobile command posts on the inside. Nate was curled up with a pillow, using his overcoat as a blanket. Harm had not thought that far ahead and was relegated to using his sea-bag as a pillow. The plane taxied down the runway out of Andrews and then after a few minutes, they were in the air over the Atlantic.

"You know what sucks? I can't fall asleep without a woman beside me anymore; I have completely lost my independent ability to sleep." Mike complained as he tossed in his seat.

"So, pack Becky the next time we decide to jump time zones. Or is Groznyy just not among her choice of vacation sites?" Harm joked.

"Hey, don't laugh at me unless you want to be teased about Meg for the whole ride." Mike tossed back. He looked over to see Nate rubbing one temple and staring down at a computer screen. "What? No witty repartee from our resident Princeton alum?"

"While you two are spouting back and forth about your experiences with the double X chromosome, I hunched over a computer trying to prevent chemical warfare. Sorry, if I care about my job." Nate rubbed his eyes.

"Listen; don't get pissy with me just because it's been eighteen months since you got laid." Mike shot back.

"Eighteen months? Now there's a long dry spell, Nate." Harm joked.

"Here's what I'm trying to figure out. In the middle of a war zone, there's a highly guarded stockpile of highly lethal chemical weapons. The guards only find out that they're on shift five minutes before they actually go on shift, all their movements are monitored between the time they wake up and the time they go on and their Lieutenant keeps a keen eye on them while they're on duty. There is every precaution taken, to prevent this kind of thing from happening so how does a canister of a rare and volatile nerve agent go missing just like that?" Nate snapped his fingers at the end.

"That was bugging the absolute hell out of me while I was leafing through treaties back at my apartment. There is no way that anyone should've been able to smuggle anything out of that compound much less out of Chechnya." Harm walked over and leaned over Nate's shoulder to get a look at the computer screen. "Why only one? If they could smuggle them out, wouldn't they try for more then one. One canister would limit them to a relatively contained attack."

"Harm, one canister of Cyclosarin, if released into a highly populated area with prevailing winds, could kill up to 80 000 people. That would make it the largest chemical strike in the history of the planet. If it was released in downtown Manhattan during rush hour, its human toll could easily equal the Nagasaki bomb. That's no contained attack, that's an assault with more carnage than Market Garden." Mike pointed out.

"Alright so basically, we have to get in their and really grind some gears. Is that what you two are telling me?" Harm questioned looking from Mike to Nate.

"That's not quite how the game is played. You and I grind gears; we're the muscle of the operation. Nate deals with the politics. Use those litigator skills we need to find the son of a bitch who sold that canister and we need to find out who he sold it to." Mike's posture and demeanour dictated a tense grit coursing through his body.

"Then what do we do with him?" Harm asked.

"Well we could shoot him. Or we could turn him over to the Russians." Mike explained.

"And they would shoot him." Nate concluded, he punched a key on his laptop and a database came up.

"What's this?" Harm asked.

"Database of the Russian military personnel stationed at the compound near Groznyy." Nate stated.

"How did you get that?" Harm's eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Thanks to DDCI Reid, Nate has one of the most powerful and intelligence capable laptops in the American government. The Russian databases are courtesy of a friend of Nate's. A Russian insider codenamed 'Rasputin' and Nate has been very careful about keeping his identity secret." Mike explained with an evidently annoyed tone.

"I was the best man at his wedding, there have to be some secrets that even the CIA can't know." Nate commented.

"You sound annoyed, Mike." Harm observed.

"I am annoyed. Rasputin will only talk to Nate and when he does, he's never in Russia. He's always in some place like Grand Turk where we wouldn't suspect him to be and we can't track him." Mike fumed.

"Of course this means I get to laugh." Nate was shuffling through profiles on his computer.

"What's Rasputin telling you?" Harm watched as the Cyrillic letters appeared on the screen.

"That in the three days that the canister has been missing, only three people have not shown up for their shifts at the compound and only one of them has a reasonable explanation." Nate read the text aloud as it came up on the screen.

"Who is he and what's the explanation?" Harm pushed.

"He's a corporal and he was shot between the eyes." Nate responded, indicating the part of the conversation on the screen where the question had already been asked.

"Who are the other two men?" Mike asked.

"One is Colonel Anatoly Zhermenev, ex Red Army and the other is Lieutenant Vladislav Corchinski." Nate read the information as it came up on the screen.

"Two officers." Harm noted under his breath.

"Not just officers; Zhermenev is the base CO." Mike recalled.

"Alright, we wanted the man who could have gotten those canisters out without detection or arousing suspicion, looks like we've got our prime suspect." Harm surmised.

"Mike, when was the last time you were an operations officer?" Nate questioned.

"Before I decided it was better to roll with the analysts, why?" Mike went wide-eyed, anticipating the next words out of Nate's mouth.

"We need you to dig for Zhermenev when we land in Groznyy. Harm and I will inspect the stockpile and get our questions answered by the Russian officials when it comes to Corchinski. But my gut tells me that Zhermenev is behind this, find out who he sold to." Nate paused for a second to allow the information to settle in.

"Authorization of force?" Mike questioned grimly. Everyone knew what Mike's question was meant to imply. He wanted to know the means he would have at his disposal to extract the information.

"Consider this Forces Necessary." Nate replied with a solemn nod.

"How can you give that order? I thought only the DCI or DDCI could give orders to agents in the field?" Harm questioned.

"He's got operational seniority over the DDCI; the position he holds in the State Department gives him that kind of command clearance in field situations like this." Mike explained as he pulled his 9mm firearm and holster out of his luggage and loaded a clip inside.

"Alright, that's enough espionage for one night, let's grab some shut-eye; shall we?" Harm yawned noticeably and fell back into his seat.

1023 LOCAL

MOSCOW INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT

MOSCOW, RUSSIA

The Leer set down on the tarmac at the airport. Harm, Mike and Nate had all managed somewhere in the neighbourhood of nine hours sleep and they even managed a little scrap of breakfast before the Russian delegation was set to meet them on the plane at 1030. Nate, being ever the Marine, even after a decade in the State Department, was the first one up; followed by Harm and finally Mike.

"I can't believe you were spooning with your luggage." Harm laughed boisterously.

"It's just a shame that we didn't have a camera. That's what I call a Kodak moment." Nate was in the bathroom putting on a new suit and tie. He came out of the bathroom and saw Harm in whites. "You've obviously never seen _A Few Good Men_."

"What?" Harm commented, indicating his dress whites.

"Harm, I realize that you're psyched about being a diplomatic envoy on a mission of this magnitude and you're only trying to make a good impression, but we're going into a war zone. If Chechen snipers see someone in white, they might take you to be someone that they want to take a shot at. Then, you're dress whites will turn blood red and they won't have the same Top Gun effect on the beach bunnies at South Beach this summer." Nate joked with a sarcastic smile.

"That's a really backhanded way of telling me that you're trying to stop me from getting myself killed." Harm commented as he headed for the bathroom to change yet again. Harm sequestered himself in the bathroom to change and Nate stepped over to talk to Mike.

"After you get the information from him, hand him over to the Russians, I don't want you responsible for a death." Nate stated quietly.

"Alright, it might take some pretty extreme measures to get the answers out of him though." Mike finally raised his gaze from the floor.

"Everyone uses them, just not everyone broadcasts it. Get the information and hand him over to the Russians……preferably, in one piece." Nate finished. The pilot came out and lowered the staircase for the jet and at that moment, Harm rejoined his colleagues in the main compartment of the jet. The three men walked down the staircase of the jet and out on to the open tarmac, with Nate leading the way.

"Nathan, my boy!" A stout, white-haired Russian man in his mid-fifties called to Nate who was walking over to shake his hand. The older Russian pulled Nate in for a big bear hug.

"Rasputin?" Harm questioned under his breath to Mike.

"No, that's Russian Minister of Defence Alexander Petrov. His whereabouts are always accounted for when Nate makes contact with Rasputin. I'm sure if you checked the logs at Langley for last night, they would tell you the same thing." Mike answered. "This does raise certain questions about how Nate could know Petrov this well."

Nate guided Minister Petrov over to the plane where Harm and Mike were waiting. Nate made the introductions in Russian and both Harm and Mike shook the minister's hand before they all boarded the plane. The gentlemen settled into their seats and the planed taxied down the runway, making more Groznyy. "Nathan, my son Nikolai sends his regards. He does so wish that you would come and visit your godchildren more often. They do miss their godfather."

"I believe that they only miss the American candy that I tend to bring with me, Alexander." Nate joked.

"No, no, this is not so!" Petrov boasted with a heavy Russian laugh. "Pavel is already playing hockey, they believe he will play for Russia soon enough."

"Well, Nikolai always did have a fearsome wrist shot; it's nice to know that he gave something to the next generation." Nate replied smugly.

"Excuse me, how do you two know each other?" Mike questioned.

"Nathan, was roommate with my son Nikolai at Princeton. He introduced my son to his wife and as a result, my grandson Nathaniel bears his name." Petrov was grinning from ear to ear.

"Extended Russian family, Nate?" Harm laughed slightly.

"I happen to know that I'm not the only one, Captain." Nate returned and Harm froze in his seat. Of course, these guys obviously had their way of knowing certain things. It didn't exactly surprise him that Nate and certainly Mike would know about Sergei. For the remainder of the plane ride, the guys took turns filling Minister Petrov in on the events of the day, carefully omitting parts so that they would be able to have Mike operate in Chechnya under the Russian radar.

When they landed on a Russian Army airstrip outside of Groznyy, their Army escort was there to meet with them. "Alright Mike, why don't you go consult with the UN Human Rights team on site, we'll meet back here at 1900?" Mike nods and takes off away from the base. Petrov turned to Nate and asked a question about where Mike was going and Nate gave him some stock answer which seemed to appease the Russian politician.

"How's he going to find Zhermenev?" Harm questioned Nate in a whisper.

"I learned a long time ago that it's better not to question how the Company gets things done." Nate responded as there escort led them deep into the inner sanctum of the compound.

"You are hungry, yes?" Petrov asked cheerily.

"Marines are always hungry, Minister Petrov. I have no doubt that Nate's stomach is rumbling as we speak." Harm joked, even making Nate laugh.

"Good; the how you say Mess Hall, is serving our soldiers right now. We will join them." Petrov motioned for the driver to stop at the Mess.

"Oh great, Borscht on a shingle." Nate quipped as the vehicle pulled to a stop and everyone hopped out. When Petrov opened the door to the mess and stepped in, all the soldier came to attention out of respect. Petrov put them at ease and he sent two of their escort to pick up some food for Harm and Nate.

"Brother!" A soldier called from the end of one table.

"Sergei?" Harm questioned, bounding down the aisle to find his brother. Sergei stood up and wrapped his brother in a big hug. "I thought the Chechens had you prisoner?"

"Mr. Webb arranged a switch from what I understand; he also made sure I was included. This was as far as I got." Sergei explained as if reciting lines.

"Leave it to Webb to leave a job half finished." Nate caught up to them.

"What means half finished?" Sergei questioned in obvious confusion. Nate pulled Harm aside for a second to talk.

"You want me to get him out of here? I can make it amicable." Nate questioned in a whisper.

"Are you sure? He's stubborn; he'll want to stay in the Army and fight." Harm responded in the same whispered tone.

"I'll arrange everything with Papa Petrov; I've already got the ideal situation worked out." Nate concluded with a reassuring nod.

"Why are you doing this?" Harm questioned, realizing that he and Nate weren't exactly on the best terms.

"He's half American, right? That entitles him to the same chances at Freedom that the rest of us are afforded." Nate responded and they turned back to talk with Sergei and Minister Petrov. After a conversation held in Russian, which Harm couldn't understand to save his life, Minister Petrov agreed to make Sergei part of their escort for the inspection and he further agreed to fix Sergei's transfer to the Russian Embassy guard at the embassy in Washington. When Harm heard the latter news, his respect for Nate Ross went up quite a few pegs.

They were about halfway through the inspection at 1600 when they decided to break for ten minutes. Nate pulled out his phone and dialled a call back home. After a few rings, someone picked up the other end of the line. "MacKenzie."

"You know, I think I need to work on my Russian." Nate joked when he heard Mac's voice.

"I heard that you guys weren't at the Pentagon today. What are you doing in Russia?" Mac questioned, glad to finally have social contact for the first time since lunch yesterday.

"Ask the President, if he tells you, then I'll tell you." Nate quipped.

"If he tells me then I'll already know and I won't need you to tell me." Mac was smiling on the other end of the phone.

"Funny how that works. What's new at JAG?" Nate questioned, trying to shift the focus off of his job.

"Nothing really, it's funny that I never noticed how dull this place can be without –" Mac stopped there.

"Without Harm to liven the place up?" Nate concluded.

"Yeah." Mac admitted sounding drained. "Enough about that, I promised to plan something to prevent you from going into work on Sunday and that's what I'm going to do." Mac steeled her resolve. "How about going for a run?"

"You're going to entice me away from work with promises of exercise? Now, I know why I became a reservist, you active duty Marines have a really odd sense of fun." Nate chortled happily.

"So that's a no to the jogging?" Mac questioned.

"Nah, I'll go, should be good for me." Nate let out a heavy breath and he heard the heavy Russian accent tell him that they were going to continue the inspection. "I have to go, Mac. Take care."

"You too, Nate." Mac replied before hanging up her phone.

The rest of the afternoon was spent occupying Russian officials with this inspection while Mike worked on getting the truth. Nate had no doubt that by the time they made it back to the tarmac at 1900, Mike would be there waiting for them.

When 1900 rolled around, Harm and Nate loaded up into the escort with Sergei and Minister Petrov and headed back for the airstrip. The rain began to beat down as they made their way to the airfield. When they pulled up to the Leer, sure enough, Mike was standing there without an umbrella waiting for them. "You know, I always forget something when we pack for these trips." Mike stated as he walked over.

"How did your conference with the Human Rights people go?" Nate questioned cryptically.

"I got the truth out of them, it took a little intense goading. Our suspicions were confirmed." Mike's voice took on a grizzled quality. Everyone hurried on to the plane and Nate patched an emergency call through to Secretary of State Malcolm Anderson.

"Secretary Anderson's office." The receptionist replied.

"Maude, this is Nate Ross, where's Malcolm now?" Nate was hurried.

"He's out at extended lunch and he won't be back until 4:30pm, Mr. Ross." Maude replied. "Do you need anything else?"

"No, Maude, thank you." Nate's voice was dripping with spite as he slammed his phone shut. "80 000 lives at risk and Malcolm Anderson is fucking golfing!" Nate shouted.

"Call the President." Harm suggested.

"I don't like springing these kind of things on him when he doesn't have anyone there to advise him on what to do." Nate retorted.

"Mike, you call Deputy Director Reid. Nate, he'll have you to advise him. Just remember that you're setting policy that's going to save the lives of countless Americans and be good." Harm was now doing the leading. This was the first time that either of them had seen Nate Ross nervous and it wasn't the most reassuring sight.

Nate flipped open his cell and dialled the number for the White House switchboard. "This is Assistant Secretary of State Nathan Ross, I need to speak with the President immediately, it's a matter of National Security." A busy signal came on the line. "She's seeing if the President wants to talk to me."

"Oh good God. Do the words _National Security_ not mean anything?" Harm questioned in frustration. A few seconds later, the President had assented to Nate's call.

"Mr. President, this is Nathan Ross. Listen, sir, in a few minutes Deputy Director Reid and Director Blake are going to walk through your door and give you a full update on the situation. The fact is, you need to order a complete inspection of any and all luggage coming in from Libya now. If we don't, there are going to be a lot of dead Americans some time in the near future." Nate's gift for saying what needed to be said was starting to prove handy.

"What are you telling me, Mr. Ross?" The President questioned.

"What I'm telling you, sir, is that Captain Rabb, Agent Bradley and I have uncovered the fact that there is a terrorist in Libya named Yassir Faraz who is in possession of the nerve agent Cyclosarin. We have substantial reason to believe that he's planning a chemical strike on the continental United States." Nate couldn't believe the sentence that he had just used.

"Holy Mother of God, Mr. Ross. I need you and your team back in Washington ASAP, where are you now and how soon can you get here?" The President questioned.

"We're taxing down the runway into Moscow International to drop off Minister Petrov, then we're going to refuel. Best guess is that we should be in Washington sometime around 0430 tomorrow morning." Nate stated.

"I'll have a staff car waiting for you on the tarmac at Andrews. It will take you right to the White House. I'm going to need you three in the Situation Room. Get some sleep, Mr. Ross, we're going to need you and your team tomorrow." The President hung up the phone.

"Director Blake was already on his way to the White House when I called. He'll be there briefing the President until we can get there. Anderson and the National Security Advisor have been called back in and the Joint Chiefs are on there way to the Sit Room. The SECDEF is at NATO HQ in Brussels for a summit that he can't walk out of the middle of without raising suspicions." Mike supplied as he closed his own phone.

"Yeah, that figures. We're running all over hell trying to prevent a chemical strike and they're worried about appearances." Harm's voice was dripping with sarcasm. Sergei couldn't understand the rapid and frantic English that was being spoken by those around him.

"Brother, I do not understand." Sergei voiced his complaint.

"You speak Russian, talk to him." Harm looked over at Nate.

"I'm running on a long day, a lot of stress and little sleep and you expect me to explain the words 'chemical holocaust' to a Russian Helo pilot from the taiga? Keep dreaming. The only language my brain can use right now is English." Nate collapsed in his chair.

"Sergei, if we don't get back to Washington very soon, a lot of people's lives are going to be in danger." Harm explained simply.

"And this has turned your friends into raving madmen?" Sergei questioned.

"Well, they're normally like this but the situation has only intensified it." Harm smiled at his brother's description.

"I am afraid I still do not really understand." Sergei stated pointedly.

"It's okay, none of us really understand either." Mike concluded. "Now everybody get some shuteye. We'll be of no use to anyone tomorrow if we're running on no sleep."

0930 ZULU

ANDREW'S AFB

MORNINGSIDE, MARYLAND

Harm had called Meg the second he found out that they were over American waters. Someone had to come and pick up Sergei and after bribing her with countless promises of foot-rubs and dinners, she eventually consented. She still threatened to make him pay for waking her up at 0330 in the morning. The plane landed at Andrews and Meg was waiting on the tarmac, as was a Helo instead of a staff car that was ready to take them to the White House. Harm ran over to talk to Meg for a few seconds and introduce Sergei.

"Meg, I hate to run out but this really is an emergency. This is my brother Sergei, Sergei, this is Meg. She's my friend; she'll get you settled in at my apartment." Harm gave Sergei a pat on the back.

"She's very pretty, you've done well, brother." Sergei replied as he climbed into the car and Harm went running over to the Helo.

"I'm glad you approve." Meg joked as she pulled the car off the tarmac.

The Helo soared over DC on their way to the White House. The three wise men were at the top of their respective professions and now, they were being tested as to whether that would be enough to win another battle in the War on Terror.


	5. Playing Politics

It was just before 0500 when the Helo landed on the White House lawn. Harm, Mike and Nate were whisked away by Marine guard detail and dragged into the White House. The corridors of the White House hung heavy with tension as they navigated them on their way to the Situation Room. Harm could feel the sweat start to trickle down from the back of hairline and down the back of his neck.

The doors to the room swung wide open and the Marines at the door saluted Harm as he and the group that was with him, entered the room. "Finally, the men with the information show up." The President greeted them.

"What do we know?" Malcolm Anderson questioned.

"Well, we know that Colonel Anatoly Zhermenev procured a canister of Cyclosarin for sale on to the Black Market. We know that three days ago he sold the canister to Yassir Faraz, which suggests the buy was set up in advance of the canister being secured." Mike started.

"I thought you three shut down Faraz's bank rolls last week?" Director Blake questioned.

"We missed one. An account in Monaco that wasn't big enough to raise any flags. We checked and that account was drained three days ago when the buy went down. Lucky for us, Zhermenev is a paranoid freak so he has surveillance around his house. We have proof of Faraz showing up for the buy." Mike continued.

"The AWACS from the Henry for the last three days are in and they show no convoys having moved in or out of the compound. That suggests that whatever it is, it's still there." Harm added.

"What are our options?" The President asked.

"Well sir, we could send in a Special Ops team but if this terrorist really does have a chemical nerve agent, he wouldn't hesitate to use it on our troops." The CNO spoke up.

"And gain his own martyrdom in the process." Deputy Director Reid added.

"We could, just level the entire compound." The CNO suggested.

"That would require assent from the Libyan government. Without that we would be at a de facto state of war with Libya." Harm added.

"We would also need to get serious international backing for this kind of operation. Otherwise, we'll just look like we acted without informing." Malcolm Anderson jumped in.

"Malcolm, the UN Security Council is about to meet in New York. Now, I've known Norman Wolfe, our Ambassador to the UN, for some time but Norman is no pit bull and that's what we need. I need a team that's going to sit in that chamber today in front of the Libyan Ambassador and the world and tell him that the United States isn't going to put up with this kind of apathy." The President commented.

"What are you saying, Mr. President?" Malcolm Anderson questioned.

"Recall Norman Wolfe for today, I'm sending Rabb and Ross in to pinch hit on this one." The President stated and Harm and Nate took on a looks of extreme surprise. "Don't look at me like you two just won the lottery. You know the info and you've got the killer instinct. I need a show of strength and you two are it."

"Does this mean that we're going with the bombing raid on the compound, sir?" Director Blake inquired.

"Depends, can anyone here give me a reason to believe that the Libyan government would assent to this?" The President looked around.

"I can, sir. We have a highly placed source in Tripoli that can influence the decision in our favour on this one." Mike stepped up to the plate.

"Are you talking about Aladdin?" Deputy Director Reid asked, leaning forward in his chair.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about, sir." Mike replied.

"Alright, Agent Bradley, you talk to your source. When we've got permission, Admiral Hudson, you'll give the order for the strike against the compound. Are we all clear on our orders?" The President questioned.

"Yes, sir." Seemed to chorus through the room.

"Alright; Mr. Bradley, you have to get out to Langley; Rabb and Ross, you two have to get to New York. Give my regards to the Secretary General and Mr. Ross please confine your curse words to English, if I'm going to laugh, I'd like to know why." The President dismissed the three men. None of them said any words until the walked out to the parking garage.

"Mike, when you're talking to Aladdin, tell him to keep his Ambassador in New York in the dark about everything that's going on." Nate instructed.

"Why?" Mike raised an eyebrow.

"Because the President just ordered me to be a pit bull. Someone's got to show the world what happens when you fall asleep at the switch and I'm going to make an example of the Libyan Ambassador to prove that point." Nate and Harm hopped into waiting limo while Mike jumped in a staff car headed for Langley.

"So, am I supposed to look like a diplomat or a Naval Captain today?" Harm questioned as the limo pulled on to Pennsylvania Avenue.

"Where your Blues. It looks the most like suit." Nate unslung his laptop carrying case from his shoulder and brought it to rest on his lap.

"We're dropping me off first, right? Because I need to pack for a trip to New York." Harm relaxed against the leather upholstery.

"Yeah, and try and manage a quickie with Meg before we head out again." Nate joked and Harm even smiled, however reluctantly, at that comment. "Don't worry about Sergei actually having to stand guard at the embassy. He's on reserve, they'll only call him if there's a riot."

"I never did thank you for that." Harm commented.

"Don't mention it. I was happy to help; the kid had a rough go what with a Chechen prison camp and all." Nate ran his hand over his hair.

"No, I mean I really do owe you. I act like a jerk before we leave and your first instinct was to get my brother the hell out of Chechnya. Not everyday I realize I have a friend whose willing to go to the wall and call in favours like that." Harm admitted.

"Just don't let him waste the opportunity to do something with his life now that he's here. I've got some friends at State who are scrambling to confirm his identity. Once they do, I've got the paperwork lined up to have him declared a naturalized citizen. Tell him, if he needs any favours, I'll call in every last one I've got to get him a chance at a good life." Nate offered with a yawn.

"You nervous about the council this afternoon?" Harm asked.

"You have to understand, every nation in the world sends their best bullshit expert to the UN and the best of the best sit on the Security Council. We have to sit in a room with them and pretend like none of them can touch us. Not only that, we have to lock on to one of them and blow his political career to shreds in order to prove a point when it comes to this war. None of what we're going to do this afternoon is taught in a political science course." Nate explained with a few small animated hand gestures.

"You make it sound as if what's going to be going on in the desert while we're doing this is just a symbol of what we'll be doing in that room." Harm's expression gained and additional gravity.

"In many ways it is. We're going to strike one very hard blow for the War on Terror today. Hopefully it's just the first of many." They were getting very close to Harm's neighbourhood now.

"You know, I was starting to miss investigating back at JAG, but there's a whole new thrill to the investigating we're doing now." Harm commented thoughtfully.

"We're here, Mr. Rabb." The driver called from the front seat.

"Thank you. See you in about ninety minutes, Nate?" Harm asked.

"Sure thing, give my best to Meg and Sergei." Nate replied as he closed the door behind Harm. Harm walked into the building and got into the elevator. He was tapping his feet incessantly. A lot had happened in the last few weeks. Hell, now Meg was back, his brother was on his way to becoming and American citizen and Mac………well, Mac and he were on what had to be the worst set of terms they had ever been on. He had always been able to call Mac a friend but after some of the words that they had exchanged, he wasn't so sure.

There quite a few times in the last week that he had considered calling Mac but there was little he could do now. She hadn't exactly been making his phone ring off the hook. Then again, he was the one who had gotten in the lion's share of verbal jabs on this one. He knew about Mac's weaknesses, her insecurities and save for mentioning her father or the bottle, he'd hit pretty much everyone of them. That wasn't what pissed Harm off the most. What pissed Harm off the most was that Mac and he just weren't talking, they had retreated into other people. He had Meg and Mac had Nate maybe not in exactly the same sense but he was certainly there for her……well, as much as he could be.

Nate. Now, there was a topic on which Harm had some really conflicting opinions. Sturgis was right. It was incredibly hard to hate the guy. He wasn't Brumby who had some seriously objectionable qualities, he wasn't Lowne who flaunted a shallow materialistic disdain for the military and their meagre pay practices and he wasn't Farrow who was preying on a vulnerable young girl. He was a bloody boy scout. He wasn't two dimensional, he was willing to make any sacrifice for the job, no price was too high and that's why it was hard to hate him. Because it was hard not to admire him.

The elevator reached his floor and Harm stepped through the door. He reached for the doorknob to his apartment to hear loud music coming from inside and he assumed the door was open. He turned the handle and opened the door to find Meg dancing a little while making breakfast and Sergei playing air guitar in the living room. "I'm home." He announced and Meg came rushing over from the kitchen.

"I missed you." She whispered as she wrapped him in a hug. "Next time, tell me when you're going into a war zone and bringing home family." Meg pouted. Harm softened up immediately.

"Brother, you need to get a room." Sergei called from the couch.

"You let him watch American TV didn't you?" Harm raised an eyebrow at Meg.

"We had to stop by my apartment for a few minutes to get some things and I came out to find him watching a late night phone sex infomercial." Meg was laughing cutely.

"It was wonderful, brother. The women in you country they are so…so…what is the word for it? Bouncy." Sergei smiled innocently.

"We stuck around for the first few minutes of a Baywatch rerun." Meg explained.

"Great, now my little brother thinks that America is the land of breasts." Harm rolled his eyes. "I have to go to New York."

"What? I talk the Admiral into giving me the day off and you have to leave? Tell me this isn't happening." Meg sounded exasperated.

"I'm going to be representing the United States at the UN Security Council this afternoon." Harm finished what he'd started to say before she interrupted them.

"I retract my previous statement. Wow, this is a great honour." She hugged him even tighter.

"As much as I would like to hang around here and continue this, the limo's going to be back soon and I would really like to shower and change before I have to confront the diplomatic corps at the United Nations." Harm started to walk off toward the bathroom, taking his shirt off as he walked. Meg whistled appreciatively as he disappeared from sight.

1819 ZULU

UNITED NATIONS

NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK

"Speak with passion, remember, those men in there are as impressionable as any jury or any audience. Remember they don't have to like you they just have to respect you. Don't talk up to them or treat them like your superiors, they're not. Talk down to them if necessary. We're not here to win friends, we're here to convince a bunch of diplomats that we did the right thing by bombing a terrorist compound into the Stone Age." Nate was rambling.

"A little nervous, Nate?" Harm questioned turning toward his co-worker.

"No, why would you think that?" Nate was starting to breathe a little heavier.

"Because you've been acting like a chicken without a head." Harm replied and then Nate's phone went off.

"Ross…two hours ago?...complete success, you're sure?...AFMC teams are on the ground in Hazmat suits making sure……complete saturation……How's Aladdin working that telecom blackout to New York?...Perfect, thanks Mike." Nate closed his phone.

"We ready?" Harm asked.

"As we'll ever be." Nate replied as the two men stepped into the Security Council chamber. The two men walked down the long aisle and across a row at the centre of the room before setting up camp behind the little sign that read "UNITED STATES". They stood there and looked around the empty chamber. They both knew that in a few minutes, delegates and members of the press would be pouring through the doors that they had just entered through but right now, at this moment, there was no more gratifying feeling then to hold this domain as their own.

"This is oddly humbling." Harm remarked aloud. Soon after he said it, people began walking in from the corridors outside. Harm and Nate took their seats and set up their evidence in front of them. They had everything, right down to the surveillance tape of Zhermenev selling the canister to Faraz. Harm knew that they weren't trying Faraz, who was unquestionably guilty, rather they were putting the Libyan government and other apathetic governments on trial. And the court, was public opinion.

"This meeting of the United Nations Security Council will come to order." The President of the council pounded the gavel to bring the session to order. "It has come to the attention of the Council that the representative for the United States would like to hold the floor for a presentation of facts which concern the Security Council, are there any objections to this?" All the other delegates went silent, their eyes searching the room for possible objections. "Very well, the President yields the floor to the delegate of the United States."

Harm rose to his feet, it had been previously agreed that he would deliver the facts and Nate would field the questions. "Thank you, Mr. President. In the ninety-six hours since Monday morning, my colleagues and I have worked tirelessly to track down a canister of the chemical nerve agent Cyclosarin. The canister went missing from a Russian stockpile in a Russian Army compound near Groznyy sometime late Sunday night by out approximation. The Russian government cooperated fully with the United States in our search to gather information on the missing chemical. It was found that the terrorist Yassir Faraz purchased the chemical on the black market and had it shipped out of Russia to his camp in Libya. It greatly disturbs the government of the United States that the government of Libya would allow such a known terrorist to go unchecked in his use of their country as a breeding ground for his activities. Mr. President, I now yield the floor for questioning on this issue." Harm returned to his chair.

"The chair thanks the delegate for his remarks and would now hear questions from those members of the council wishing to question the findings presented to the council by the delegates of the United States." The President opened the floor. The Libyan delegate raised his hand to summon the attention of the chair. "I would call on the delegate of Libya to present his question."

"Thank you, Mr. President. I wish to know what right the American government believes it has in interfering in the affairs of my country." The Libyan Ambassador inflated his chest.

"A well known terrorist, with anti-American views and whose promised action against the American people takes possession of a canister of nerve agent and you have the nerve to question the right of the American government to apprehend this international criminal? The lives that might have been lost to a chemical attack might be inconsequential to you, Mr. Ambassador but I can assure you that the loss of those lives would have meant a great grief for the United States, one which we would do anything to spare our citizens of." Nate shot back.

"America believes it has the right to police the world!" The Libyan Ambassador spat back.

"America has to police the world because irresponsible governments like yours refuse to police yourselves. Now I've been on the phone for the better part of this day with people in your government making sure that you were aware that Faraz was in your country and you either chose to pretend like you didn't know or you didn't want the world to know that you in fact knew he was there all along!" Nate's voice rose in volume and intensity.

"What are you accusing me of, Ambassador Ross?" The Libyan delegate was seething.

"Ignorance, Mr. Ambassador. Either that or stupidity and in the current world climate, I'm not sure which should be the higher crime." Nate shot back and all eyes in the room were on him.

"The chair calls for order and recognizes the delegate from Germany." The President of the council cut off the dispute.

"Mr. President, I would just like to voice Germany's outrage at the apathy exhibited by the government of Libya in their inability to keep track of such a dangerous man within their borders." The German Ambassador stated. In succession, delegates from India, Brazil, Britain, France, Turkey and Japan all voiced similar opinions and after a few more hours of debate, the meeting was adjourned. Harm and Nate were the men of the hour in that room. They shook hands with everyone, even the Libyan Ambassador showed a grudging respect for his fellow political gladiators.

Harm and Nate were invited to a dinner at Tavern on the Green by the British delegation, an invitation that they accepted out of professional courtesy. Then they made their way through the corridors of the UN building on their way to the car. "Won't their cooperation today with the strike exonerate the Libyans?" Harm enquired.

"Almost the opposite, it'll be seen as an act of redemption. If they acknowledge that they knew about Faraz ahead of time, then they're admitting that they did nothing about him and if they admit that they didn't know where he was while he was in their country and we covered that angle by accusing them of ignorance today." Nate answered.

"Sir, the President wishes to speak with you." One of the aids from the American office handed Harm a phone.

"Sir?...Thank you, sir, we did our best……that is high praise indeed, sir, I'll pass along the word to Nate……Larry King, sir? I'm not sure about that, Nate's really more the political type…..well, sir, we're having dinner with the British delegation tonight……yes, sir, we'll call ZNN New York if we can make it……goodbye, sir." Harm handed the phone back to the aid.

"Well?" Nate questioned.

"The President is through the roof. ZNN wants us on Larry King tonight, they're scrambling to find out who we are and why they weren't prepared for what happened today. The President neutralizing this threat is a dream for the American war effort." Harm was beaming a major smile.

"Alright, let's get in the limo and check ourselves into a hotel. We're going to be in New York over night." Nate gave Harm a pat on the back.

2403 ZULU

TAVERN ON THE GREEN

NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK

Harm and Nate were shown over to the table by the Maitre D and they were greeted by the members of the British delegation along with the German and Indian UN Ambassadors. "I hope you do not mind but we arrived early and had them bring over more bread." The British Ambassador commented.

"Not a problem. We were a little late, Captain Rabb seems to have forgotten that watches work no matter where in the world you are." Nate joked as he leaned into the centre of the table.

"That performance that the two of you gave in the chamber today was most impressive, if a little rough around the edges. Were you two personally tied to the investigation?" The Indian Ambassador was now doing the questioning.

"We just knew the facts of the case. The President thought that we were the best two man team for the assignment and he put us on it." Harm replied.

"I have not seen either of you before. You, Captain, are obviously a Naval officer and we don't get many of them around here. Your insignia bears that of the JAG corps so my guess is that you were called in for expertise in international law, correct?" The German Ambassador questioned.

"It's my field, but I like to think I bring certain other talents to the table." Harm retorted.

"But you, Ambassador Ross, you were not on Ambassador Wolfe's team so I was most intrigued to see the President calling in a hired gun for this assignment. When I found out how high up your position was at the State Department I was sure that the President wanted someone he could trust. Who of course is more trustworthy then the son of the nation's former top Marine officer, yes?" The German Ambassador raised his eyebrows.

"Well, I would like to think that the President trusts me because I've proven myself to be among the top members of his diplomatic corps rather then because of who my father may or may not be, Ambassador Fischer. But enough about today's events, we were all there, there's no need to analyze them to death." Nate called over the wine steward and ordered himself a glass.

The night dragged on and there were anecdotes and jokes exchanged. Cigars were smoked around the table and the order of the night seemed to shift from diplomacy to peace and friendship. The laughs were boisterous and the wine flowed freely. By 2200, the group dispersed. Harm and Nate were relatively sober, having consumed very little wine themselves. They walked out of the restaurant and out to the limo. "You think that the President is going to be pissed off that we didn't make it to ZNN New York?" Harm asked.

"No, he knows that we've had a long day. Right now, I just want to go back to the hotel and pass out on the bed, maybe leaving a wake up call for the year 2007." Nate lulled his head back against the seat in the limo.

"We did good work today, didn't we?" Harm questioned.

"Yeah, yeah we did." Nate admitted drowsily.

"You were right, Nate. Every negotiation is just like an interrogation. I could see the Libyan delegate seizing up as we laid into him. He knew that he had it. I mean when you really laid into him, I thought he was going to fake a heart attack just to end the session right then and there." Harm laughed lightly. "I still can't believe you told the man that he was either ignorant or stupid and that being either was in his case, criminal."

"Hell, I just can't believe that the President didn't threaten to remove me from the chamber for that remark." Nate yawned as the limo pulled up to the curb in front of the hotel. The two men got out of the car and walked into the hotel. Nate turned his cell on for the first time since he walked into the Security Council chamber earlier in the day and noticed that he had two missed calls, both from the same number.

Harm and Nate parted ways to go into their separate hotel room and Nate dialled back the number that had called him earlier in the day. "MacKenzie" The voice came on the other end of the line.

"This is Ambassador Nathan Ross." Nate replied in his best official sounding voice.

"Chemical weapons? That's what you were chasing around Russia wasn't it?" Mac charged.

"Yeah, yeah it was. But we got the guy, Mac. We got him good and Harm and I were able to show the world that apathy is no longer an option when it comes to letting these guys live inside national borders." Nate's enthusiasm fired up again.

"So, are you heading home tomorrow?" Mac questioned.

"Yeah, why do you have plans for me that I should be made aware of? I thought we were going running on Sunday?" Nate asked.

"We are, but you save thousands of Americans, I think you deserve something extra." Mac replied in a cute tone.

"So, we're going running tomorrow too, then?" Nate smiled weakly.

"I was going to suggest heading out to Quantico and having you teach me how to shoot long range." Mac started. "But, if you'd rather run, I suppose…"

"No, no, shooting's good." Nate compensated.

"Good." Mac chuckled.

"Why don't you come pick me up at the airport, I'm sure Harm would like to know that you're proud of him to." Nate's bold streak was running heavy. There was silence on the other end of the line.

"I don't know, Nate." Mac dragged out the words.

"Come on, Mac. He's still your friend, right?" Nate goaded.

"Yeah." Mac replied.

"Be proud of him as a friend then." Nate suggested.

"What time do you touch down at Andrews?" Mac responded, showing that she'd given in.

"1045, see you then?" Nate asked.

"Yeah, see you then." Mac replied before cutting the connection.

1545 ZULU

ANDREWS AFB

MORNINGSIDE, MARYLAND

Harm and Nate laboured down out of the Leer jet and on to the tarmac at Andrews. Mac and Meg were both waiting on the tarmac for them. There was some light exchange between the two, mostly work related but they both were just killing time before the jet landed.

Harm and Nate went walking over to their two person reception on the tarmac. "Where's Sergei?" Harm asked Meg.

"Still discovering American TV, he loves _The Simpsons_." Meg commented as she pulled Harm in for a tight hug.

"You did good work, Harm. I'm proud of you." Mac admitted and it was true, she was proud of him but she didn't think she should have to be the one to initiate first contact, not after all the things he had said.

"Thanks Mac, that means a lot." Harm was tense, since the sort of communication cut off had been going since the ball, he was sure that Mac would rather cut off a part of her anatomy then be the first to talk. "But you, you just had to play chicken with the UN Security Council." Mac pointed a taunting finger at Nate who merely smiled in response.

"I like to live dangerously." He replied as he and Mac climbed into the car and headed off for Quantico.


	6. Conversations

"So what are we doing today, Meg?" Harm asked as he let Meg into the apartment. It had been a little more than a month since the Faraz incident and Harm had been successfully settling into his new life. There were regular trips out to Falls Church to have lunch with Meg or Sturgis, if Meg was in court. If he ran into her at JAG, he'd exchange some small talk with Mac but neither of them was particularly ready to discuss what had happened all those weeks ago.

The more Harm thought about it, the more he was enjoying spending time with Meg. There were worrisome parts about it though. Part of Harm worried that he was using Meg as a substitute for Mac and the other part of him was worried that Meg's presence was stirring up parts of him that he thought he had long since buried.

Harm was raking himself over the mental coals. That little questioning session that he'd had with Sturgis a few weeks earlier had made him feel even worse. In the old days, he might have called Mac to check in and see when she was going to be back in town. Of course, work had been another thing entirely. The two week mess that was now in the CIA files as the _Yassir Faraz_ _Affair_ had plagued heavily on his mind during that period of time. Mac had no way of knowing how much it was weighing on him and just like in Sydney, work had built up stress around him and he never saw the personal storm clouds brewing overhead.

"Harm? Hello, tower to Harm?" Meg raised her eyebrows with concern, noticing that Harm had drifted off into space sometime in the last few minutes.

"Yeah, sorry Meg, I just have a lot on my mind." Harm snapped back into reality. Early March in DC, that was a less comforting atmosphere. He'd prefer summer or winter or anything but a rainy late winter day right now.

"I can see that you've got a lot on your mind, anything you care to talk about?" Meg sat down on his couch.

"I don't know, Meg. Sometimes I think my life is too much trouble for one man to handle. The last time I knew any stability was…..I guess that it was just before I went back to flying. Jesus, I'm almost forty, I'm single, my career is just about as dangerous as it's ever been, with the exception of flying jets and I seem to have made a concerted effort to shut out a lot of my friends in the last six weeks." Harm threw himself down on the couch next to Meg.

"You've got Sergei and Commander Turner and me. We're all here for you. I've only briefly met the guys that you work with but I mean, they must be alright if they were willing to help get Sergei into the country, right?" Meg placed a hand on his back as Harm leaned forward.

"I don't know, Meg. I think you had it right the first time, there's only you and Sergei and Sturgis. I think that Nate and Mike just deal with me because we need to work together or a lot of bad things are going to happen to good people." Harm ran his hand through his hair. "At the risk of sounding like a teenager, life sucks."

Meg giggled a little at his sentiment. "Harm, life can't be all that bad. I mean, you're in a place in your career that would leave every other O-6 in the Navy envious to no end. You've got your friends and you're brother knows safety and security for the first time in his life because he's living with you. Where is he anyway?" Meg looked around the apartment.

"After the indoctrination you gave him he's gone wild for American women. He's had quite a few dates this week." Harm admitted with a smile.

"Oh no, I've helped release another Rabb on the unsuspecting female population of DC. No woman will ever be able to have strong-knees again." Meg joked lightly.

"He asked out the girl behind the counter at the 7/11, I thought that was the funniest of his escapades so far." Harm added. "How about a beer?"

"I was wondering when you were going to ask." Meg answered as Harm got up off the couch.

1627 ZULU

NATE'S APARTMENT

PENTAGON CITY, VIRGINIA

"I still can't believe that you've got me running." Nate walked through the door first and tossed his keys on a nearby desk.

"Yeah, well, you're getting better, it was seven miles before you started griping today. I let you off at ten because it started raining." Mac commented and Nate walked back into the main living room and tossed her a towel for her hair. This marked the fifth straight Sunday that Mac had dragged Nate out of his apartment to run. "You gonna order the pizza this time or are you going to make me do it?" Mac called down the hall to his bedroom.

"You order it, I'm going to take eight minutes in the rain room." Nate called back.

"You didn't get enough rain outside?" Mac questioned.

"There's a difference between freezing rainwater and a nice hot shower. In eight minutes, I'll actually be able to move my muscles again." Nate shouted back through the apartment.

"Oh quit complaining you big baby." Mac ridiculed. She dialled up the number for the local Pizza Hut and eight minutes and thirty-eight seconds later, Nate came walking out of his bedroom dressed in sweats and drying his hair with a towel.

"When's the pizza going to be here?" Nate asked as he hopped over the back of his couch and landed on the furniture on his back.

"They said thirty minutes. What movie are we going to watch?" Mac was browsing through his DVD collection in the China cabinet.

"Ladies choice, no Dirty Harry though, seeing Clint Eastwood shoot somebody just isn't in my plans for today?" Nate commented as he looked over at the cabinet.

"How about _Mr. Smith Goes to Washington_. Story of a young idealist who goes to Washington only to find himself in the middle of corruption. Story of your life isn't it?" Mac joked as she tossed him the movie.

"Leave it to you to pick the classic." Nate slid the disk into the machine and grabbed the remote off the coffee table as he headed back to the couch. The two of them sat watching the movie, when the pizza came, Nate went to the door and got it so that Mac could keep watching the movie. The two of them were halfway done the pizza when the movie ended.

"I never was one for the hokey endings where the hero always ended up with the girl. Guess that's why I like Casablanca." Nate interlaced his fingers behind his head.

"This coming from the guy who doesn't date." Mac eyed him suspiciously. "Why is that by the way?"

"I have this theory that women are the root of all evil. It's not an Adam and Eve thing, it's just something that my Grade 11 Math teacher and I came up with." Nate joked. "Besides, dating leads to marriage and that's where my track record gets sketchy."

"You were married!" Mac's eyes went wide at the revelation.

"Yeah, I tried the domestic thing. We dated in my last year at Princeton, then engaged during my tour in Desert Storm and we were married for my first two years at the State Department." Nate started to explain.

"What happened?" Mac was now rapt in the story.

"She wanted the American Dream, the kids, the house in the suburbs and I wanted it to, but I was always more concerned with my job then trying to fulfill her dreams. I loved her, I honestly did. I just couldn't be the man that she needed me to be." Nate admitted sombrely.

"There has to be more to it then that, how did it end?" Mac pushed.

"One night, I came home and she had waited up for me. She was sitting at the kitchen table in her bathrobe and she looked me right in the eye and said 'I can't be the only one who's heart is in this, Nathan.' I didn't know what to say to that, I just stood there dumbfounded waiting for her to explain what she meant. This was during the time when I was still learning how to read body language. I looked her right in the eye and asked 'what do you want from me?'" Nate paused for a second.

"Not the best thing to say to a woman who's looking for reassurance." Mac commented.

"I know that now, didn't know then. The whole thing was quiet and calm and amicable. We both left the marriage with everything that we brought into it. She threw herself into her Navy career and I shot up the ranks of the State Department." Nate concluded.

"You were married to a squid? I'm impressed, that would drive most Marines insane." Mac tried to add some levity to the situation.

"You know what hurt the most for about a year after that, Mac?" Nate was starting to tear up. Mac was silent. "I told myself that if I knew, that if I had seen it coming, I would have tried harder. I would have given her the children that she wanted, the life that she wanted. I wouldn't have failed as a husband." Nate wiped his eyes with his hand. "Oh God, if the General could see me now, huh?"

"Enough depressing stuff for now, how about another movie? Adam Sandler?" Mac got up out of the recliner where she had been sitting.

SAME TIME

HARM'S APARTMENT

NORTH OF UNION STATION

Harm pushed Meg out the door, claiming that he wasn't the best company right now and he'd prefer to just be alone for a while. He promised that he'd make it up to her with lunch tomorrow and she knew that he would. Harm sat in his apartment not knowing what to do. Very little of his life made sense at this moment. Talking with Meg had confirmed just how much of his life was stable. Outside of his family, there were two people, Meg and Sturgis that had really been there for him since he left JAG. Part of him knew that if he wanted her to, Meg could mean so much more to him than just a friend.

When Meg had brought up the guys at work, Harm had to flinch. Nate and Mike were no Admiral and Bud. He was probably being unfair by comparing them but Harm needed people that he could relate to. Mike was an Agent and a guy whose personal life was rapt in planning details of an upcoming wedding. He couldn't let Nate be the friend that Nate was trying to be. There was the wedge there though, a brunette, brown-eyed, 36-24-26 wedge named Sarah MacKenzie.

Part of him saw Nate and Mac and he got the same feeling that he got when he came back from flying and saw Mac all chummy with Bugme. There was something about Nate though, it was hard to hate him. Brumby openly and admittedly chased Mac but Nate……he imagined that he was looking at their friendship the way that most people must have looked at his friendship with Mac when Mac first came to JAG. The way that he knew that Annie Pendry and Bobbi Latham had seen it. That was even worse.

A loud pounding came at his door. Harm laboured over to the door and looked through the peephole which was rather mysteriously covered with a hand. Harm opened the door to find the Admiral standing in his hallway, dressed in civvies and carrying a six pack of Guinness. "I figured I'd come by and chew the fat with you, Captain. We haven't really talked since you left Headquarters."

"I appreciate that, sir, but I think…" Harm was interrupted.

"Trust me on this one, son. If you want to get ahead in this man's Navy, you let the two star carrying a six pack, into your apartment." The Admiral joked.

"Yes, sir." Harm smiled and stepped aside to let the Admiral into his apartment. The two men walked over into the living area and sit down. The Admiral pulled one can out of the six pack and tossed the beer to Harm.

"So, how've you been, Harm? I saw that presentation that you gave to the United Nations Security Council. That was one impressive display, son. You trying to steal my job?" The Admiral smiled fondly as he opened his beer.

"No, no, I wouldn't have even been in there if President Russell hadn't given me orders to do it." Harm set his beer down on the table.

"How come you weren't the one fielding the questions, Harm? You were always my all-star in the courtroom, that's why I hated seeing you go." The Admiral leaned in over the coffee table.

"Thank you, sir, that's nice of you to say." Harm admitted with a questioning smile.

"Harm, we're sitting in your living room, drinking beer and we're about to stop talking about work. I think calling me AJ would be acceptable." AJ stated as he took another sip of beer.

"Tell me that you didn't come here to talk about Mac, sir." Harm sank back into the couch.

"No, this isn't about Mac, at least not entirely. Harm, there's a problem in my JAG office and you are playing a part in that even though you are no longer under my command." AJ started. "The problem is, that I have a Chief of Staff who's only happy when she's talking to you in the bullpen." _Or her new pal_; The Admiral added silently. "I have one senior attorney that this Chief of Staff can barely stand the sight of and another senior attorney who's trying to make peace in my office and only succeeding in angering my Chief of Staff further."

Harm couldn't help but try incredibly hard to stifle serious laughter. "Alright so, Mac's on a rampage, Meg has to stay out of her line of sight and Sturgis is stirring up shit. Is that what you're getting at?"

"I knew there was a reason that I always liked you.." The Admiral laughed.

"Alright do you want my advice on what to do or do you want to sit here cracking jokes about Mac's mood and Sturgis' nose in everyone else's business?" Harm took another drink.

"You run a staff for six weeks and you're offering to give me advice?" The Admiral questioned slightly disbelievingly.

"Just spit-balling." Harm set his beer down on the table.

"I can see the wheels in your head turning. Let's hear what you've got to say. If the diplomats of the world can take your advice, I can too." The Admiral finished off his first beer.

"Well, here's my first suggestion, keep Meg and Mac apart. If Mac's in a foul enough mood, she'll eat Meg for breakfast and if Sturgis is having a nosy day, keep him out of Mac's wake too otherwise, he'll be lunch." Harm and AJ were laughing openly. "If you don't remember that Mac's a Marine, don't worry, she'll remind you. If you have to assign her a partner for investigations make it Sturgis, since Bud got shipped out to sea duty."

"I don't like having to play personal politics with my staff." The Admiral admitted.

"I'm just trying to keep Meg and Sturgis alive. If Mac's on the warpath, you're the only one who can settle her and even then it's a risk. She doesn't even settle down when Nate shows up for lunch?" Harm asked with a twinge of pride peaking at his heart.

"Son, I don't think……" The Admiral started shaking his head.

"He calms her down, that's what you're trying not to tell me." Harm guessed, the twinge of hope diminishing rapidly.

"Well, he does tend to resort to Beltway Burger bribery but yes, she does calm down for the period of lunch. She returns to the warpath pretty soon after that." The Admiral covered quickly.

"AJ, it's perfectly okay that he's able to calm her down. To be honest, I always kind of hoped that Mac would have more people that she could talk to." Harm admitted.

"I don't understand why she didn't come to one of us?" The Admiral shook his head in confusion.

"Well, she wouldn't feel comfortable talking to Sturgis because she probably thinks he's my spy. She wouldn't talk to Harriet or Bud because they aren't able to drop the formalities long enough to have a decent conversation and Meg? Forget about it, Mac's probably already under the assumption that Meg and I are sleeping together." Harm was almost at a ranting pace.

"You're not, are you?" The Admiral blurted out before thinking. "Sorry, none of my business."

"You're right, it's not your business. But no, Meg and I aren't sleeping together." Harm affirmed.

"I still don't understand why she never came to me." The Admiral pondered.

"You used to be attracted to her, she knows that and hence, she's hesitant to come to you about this kind of thing." Harm finished off his first beer.

"What!" The Admiral practically leapt out of his chair.

"You said, we were dropping the formalities, sir. It didn't take a genius in body language to pick up on that near miss that you guys had a few years ago." Harm stated nonchalantly.

"I thought we hid it rather well, it's not like anything happened, I mean, it's just like you said, it was a near miss. We both agreed that it would have been a mistake." The Admiral was caught in a tailspin.

"It's okay, AJ, if I was going to think less of you because of it, I would have started years ago." Harm acknowledged. "Though if she and Nate are going to get involved, he might want to know."

"Son, those two aren't getting involved with one another. I mean according to Tiner, and you know what a gossip he is, the two of them talk about you more then any other subject. I don't know, son. But enough about Mac, let's talk about you and Meg. I remember having a conversation with you about Annie Pendry some years back about this kind of thing and I have to say, Meg Austin is good for you." The Admiral shrugged his shoulders.

"I've been thinking that a lot lately. I've been wondering what it would be like and I've got to tell you; the thought of Meg is more appealing, more familiar then any woman who's ever been my girlfriend." Harm admitted reluctantly.

"There might be something to that. Harm, I've known you for the better part of the last seven years and I can safely say that I don't know who'd be better for you, Mac or Meg. Make of it what you will." The Admiral capped off his second beer.

"What are you, giving me permission to get involved with an officer under your command?" Harm was notably confused.

"Harm, let me explain something to you. If I had an undercover assignment and I had to send you in with one of those two women to play the loving husband, I'd send you in with Mac. If I had to send in one of those women to play a wife who adored her husband, I would be sending Meg in with you." The Admiral suggested.

"You're saying that Mac doesn't care for me as much as Meg does?" Harm popped open his second beer.

"Harm, between Marcella, Sydney and a few others in the time you've known me, God knows, I'm the last one who should give you romantic advice but son, you've got a chance with two of the most amazing young women I've ever met. Don't screw it up." The Admiral was starting to sound more and more like a mentor.

"Wow, sir, I guess I just figured……" Harm started but the Admiral cut him off.

"You just figured that after six years of watching you and MacKenzie dance around each other, I'd naturally push you to choose her?" The Admiral guessed.

"Well……yeah." Harm was startled.

"I would have but Harm, I saw the way that you interacted with Meg and the way she interacted with you, and I saw your wife, Harm. You have yourself in one enviable pickle, son." The Admiral admitted.

SAME TIME

THE DEFENSIVE LINE

PENTAGON CITY, VIRGINIA

"Come on, we have to get you out dating again. You need a social life; I'm determined to transplant one into your schedule." Mac was dragging Nate into the bar.

"I have a social life, I hang out with you." Nate protested as he struggle against Mac's attempt to drag him away from the car.

"When was the last time you had an actual date?" Mac stood ramrod straight and put her hands to her hips, assuming the lecture position.

"A date? About eighteen months ago." Nate replied, his eyes rolled back like he was searching the back of his mind.

"The government rests." Mac quipped. "You're a nice guy, you deserve to have a little fun." Mac continued her argument, returning to her previous activity of dragging him toward the bar.

"Meeting strange women is not my idea of fun. It's my idea of Chlamydia." Nate retorted dryly as Mac finally got him through the door. The two of them took a table near a big screen TV.

"Lighten up, I'm surprised you were ever married with the attitude that you have." Mac smacked him lightly on the shoulder.

"My buddies from school dared me to hit on my ex-wife, if they hadn't, I probably never would have done it. My buddy bet me, and I quote 'twenty American dollars' that I couldn't get her phone number if I walked over to her and hit on her." Nate finished the story.

"I'm curious, what line did you use?" Mac was now repressing serious giggles.

"Hi, I'm a United States Marine." Nate replied as the server placed their drinks in front of them.

"And that worked?" Mac's eyes went wide and she opened her mouth in surprise.

"Not a for a second. So, then I just told her about the bet, she thought I was funny, we talked a little more and I got her number." Nate explained as he leaned back in his chair.

"Yeah, well, dating has come a long way since those days." Mac commented.

"It's like music though. No matter how cool CDs are, sometimes there's just something special to hearing it on vinyl." Nate remarked which caused Mac to roll her eyes.

"Mr. Body Language Expert can't approach women? I thought that with a skill like that you'd be a bona fide lady-killer." Mac was in sarcastic mode. "Now get back in the game before you give Marines and Silver Star winners a bad name." Mac coached in her own kick ass jarhead way. The two of them looked around the bar and saw a few young enlisted Marines trying to make points with a group of girls from Georgetown University.

"How about rather then trying to aid a helpless old diplomat, we try and teach those young Marines over there, what they're doing wrong?" Nate suggested, finishing off his Coke.

"You want to be relationship councillors for people that we don't even know?" Mac questioned incredulously.

"Yeah. You tell the Marines what they're doing wrong and I'll see if I can't talk the Georgetown girls into giving our servicemen over there a chance." Nate suggested, laying out his plan.

"You're crazy, you know that?" Mac rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"I try. So, you up for helping the Marines or not?" Nate challenged.

"Leave no man behind, lead the way, Major." Mac motioned away from the table. The two of them took their separate routes to their intended targets. Mac introduced herself by rank, so the young enlisted Marines didn't get any ideas of their own and she coached them on what to say. Nate just walked over and nonchalantly started to talk to the girls about how they should deal with a clan of Jarheads who didn't exactly understand the finer nuances of the chase.

After a few minutes of what was a pretty basic explanations, Mac and Nate left the two groups to their respective vices and headed back to their table to watch the next transactions. Sure enough, inside the following twenty minutes, when conversations between the two sides resumed, they were much more successful then they had previously been. The guys weren't sounding like grunting gorillas and the girls weren't being so quick to judge when the guys tripped over there language a little.

"Amazing, in five minutes we can pull off that but we've had more then thirty years with our own lives and we end up sitting in a bar on a weekend, fixing up other people, how pathetic is this?" Mac questioned rhetorically.

"I'll take 'very' for 500, Alex." Nate replied as he started sipping away at his Coke. In a vagrant mimicry of the first toast they shared, Nate raised his glass across the table. "To idealistic Marines."

"To idealistic Marines." Mac replied as their glasses met.


	7. Living Shadows

_A/N: We get it, we get it! You guys hate Meg. On some small levels, we're disappointed because to us it means we deviated too far from the character. Luckily for you, this is the last chapter in which Meg plays any real significant role. _

_Guest Starring:_

_Tom Skerritt as General Jack Ross_

_Mark-Paul Gosselaar as Detective Sergeant Stephen Ross_

1923 ZULU

DONNY'S ICE CREAM

PENTAGON CITY, VIRGINIA

"No way, Mac, Catwoman was by far a better role model for women then Wonder Woman was." Nate argued as they walked back toward his apartment.

"State your case." Mac replied as she took a lick from her ice cream cone. Being a man, Nate paused for a second and watched as drops of the vanilla soft serve ran stray from her lips and his mind raced with innuendo and imagery.

"Think, Wonder Woman dealt in BS, the lasso of truth? Come on, Catwoman was by far the more feminist icon. She was a modern woman who was very much in control of her sexuality. Besides, her costume left much more to the imagination then Wonder Woman's." Nate argued as he took a spoonful of his sundae.

"A tight leather cat-suit leaves more to the imagination?" Mac replied disbelievingly.

"Of course." Nate replied emphatically.

"I have a little wager in mind then smart guy." Mac toyed lightly.

"You're on, MacKenzie." Nate replied in his best John Wayne impersonation.

"Here's the score. A race back to your apartment, I win and you wear anything I want to Sturgis and Bobbi's costume party next week. You win and you get to pick my costume." Mac looked Nate square in the eye, conveying the utmost seriousness.

"You're on Marine, you're so going down." Nate replied. Mac started walking a little faster.

"Go!" She yelled and she took off with a pretty fair head start. Mac went sprinting around the corner toward the apartment at a pretty frantic pace, with Nate catching fast on her heels once he found his stride. Mac was a little less that a block from the apartment when Nate passed her and she tried frantically to up her pace. She wasn't paying attention to where she was running and she wrenched her ankle in a crack in the cement of the sidewalk. She hit the pavement with a thud and within seconds, Nate was at her side.

"Mac!" Nate knelt down and found one pissed off Marine in pain.

"You're getting too fast." Mac replied with a sardonic laugh.

"Alright, Marine, no way you're walking the rest of the way and the stairs in my building." Nate hoisted Mac on to his back in the piggy-back position.

"Oh great, I now have my own personal horse." Mac replied and Nate imitated the sound of a horse whinnying. "Complete with sound effects." Mac added. Nate carried her the rest of the way to his apartment and up the stairs in his building, cracking jokes the whole way in an attempt to lighten Mac's mood. They rounded the corner to the hallway in front of Nate's apartment to find a woman in her late fifties standing in front of Nate's door.

"Nathan!" The woman sounded elated as she walked toward Nate.

"Mom." Nate sounded annoyed as he reached for the keys in his pocket. "Please come in, tell me who died this time that Dad sent you in to talk to me." Nate flung the door open wide and let his mother in, still carrying Mac on his back. He gently lowered Mac to the couch before running to the kitchen to get an ice pack in an effort to keep the swelling down. Nate propped Mac's ankle up on a pillow and Mac held the ice against the swollen foot. "What's going on, Mom?"

"Well dear, as you know, you haven't exactly kept in contact in the last ten years or so." Mrs. Ross started.

"Yeah, well you guys weren't exactly running up the phone bill with calls either, mom." Nate replied as he walked toward the bathroom to get the ankle brace. He came walking back in a few seconds later.

"Yes, well, there's a family barbecue this weekend out at the shore and your father has suggested that —" Mrs. Ross stopped there. "Nathan, are you sure we should be talking in front of her."

"First off, Mom, this is Mac, she's a friend of mine, now that you've been introduced, you don't have to talk about her in the third person like she isn't here. Mac this is my mom, Eileen." Nate handed the brace to Mac who gingerly slid it on over her foot.

"Nice to meet you. Mrs. Ross." Mac grimaced as the brace came up over the bruised and swelling area.

"You too, dear." Eileen Ross replied with a sincerity that bordered on genuine.

"Second, Mom, she's injured so I'm not asking her to move and third, she probably can stomach what you're about to say better then I can." Nate finished and dropped himself into his favourite chair, which had since become Mac's favourite chair normally when she was over.

"As I was saying, there's the barbecue this weekend out at the shore and your father had suggested that you be invited. It would be nice of you to come out and see everyone again." Mrs. Ross sounded reserved.

"Mom, you know that if dad and I get within ten feet of one another, it will develop into a shouting match. For a psychiatrist, mom, you certainly seem to carry a fair set of your own delusions." Nate commented sarcastically.

"Nathan, I certainly didn't raise you to talk that way. Now, you know where the cottage is out at Chincoteague, I figured that I would at least be courteous enough to extend the invitation." Eileen Ross got up off the couch and walked over to the door. "It was lovely meeting you, Mac, dear; if Nathan decides to drag himself out to the shore this weekend I do hope you join him." With that, Eileen Ross left the apartment.

"Welcome to my nightmare." Nate deadpanned as he threw himself down on the couch next to Mac.

SAME TIME

HARM'S APARTMENT

NORTH OF UNION STATION

Harm had to stay late at the Pentagon, well it wasn't that he had to stay late, it was more that he hadn't been afforded the ability to secure early as had Nate and Mike. He was working out of the CNO's office today, trying to formalize legal positions and gathering a few missing AWACS photographs that were noticeably absent from today's intelligence briefings.

He'd had plans to just rent something from Blockbuster and have dinner with Meg at his apartment tonight, but he was going to have to push the plans back a little. Sergei had a meeting with the Captain of the guard for the Russian embassy so he was out for the night. Meg decided to go over to Harm's a surprise him with dinner. A little Texas style vegetarian chilli. Meg found the spare key that Harm had hidden outside his apartment and unlocked the door. She walked in, set the ingredients on the counter and went to work on dinner.

What she was making, was in truth, a deviation on an old family Texas chilli recipe. Normally there was beef in the chilli but Meg just substituted that with a few different veggies and no one was the wiser. She was just adding the Tabasco sauce (a traditional Texas ingredient) when a knock came at the door. Meg stopped what she was doing and ran over to the door. She looked through the peephole before opening the door.

An older woman was on the other side of the door. She looked rather surprised to see Meg there. "This is Harmon Rabb's apartment, isn't it?" The woman asked.

"Oh yes, of course, I was just here making supper, he isn't home from work yet." Meg answered.

"Oh, I'm sorry dear, Patricia Burnett." Trish extended her hand toward Meg.

"You're Harm's mother!" Meg threw her head back slightly as a wash of understanding came over her. "Sorry, I guess I wasn't expecting you. Please, come in." Meg stepped aside and opened the door wider to let Trish into the apartment.

"Who would you be, dear?" Trish questioned turning toward Meg.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Burnett, I know this must be odd to come to your son's apartment and find some strange woman making dinner for him. My name's Meg, I'm a……friend of Harm's." Meg concluded. She wasn't sure exactly what she was to Harm, she had expressed interest earlier in returning to the way things were while she was first stationed at JAG, but their current friendship had far exceeded that. Harm was……well, affectionate is the wrong word, she reasoned, flirtatiously compassionate with her more often now.

"It would seem odd, but I've become less surprised by Harm's antics in recent years." Trish replied with a wise smile.

"I've heard the stories." Meg laughed nervously. "I was just making some chilli but I think it could use a mother's touch, what do you say?"

"Chilli for Harm? How could I turn down a chance to help with a dinner like that?" Trish laughed light-heartedly

SAME TIME

NATE ROSS' APARTMENT

PENTAGON CITY, VIRGINIA

The room went dead silent after Mrs. Ross left. Nate was busy wearing a hole in the floor because of his pacing and Mac was very amused watching her normally composed friend, drive himself insane.

"Are you going to go?" Mac asked as she continued to ice down her ankle.

"I don't really have a choice, if I don't go, Mom and Dad will pull off this 'our son doesn't love us' routine for the rest of my relatives and I won't be able to talk to them for the remainder of the year. If I go, my dad and I will either fight, or spend the whole day acting like Arafat and Sharon on vacation together." Nate dragged one eyelid in annoyance.

"Talk about playing Russian roulette with a loaded gun." Mac joked and patted the sofa next to her.

"Don't tempt me." Nate retorted as he moved away from the couch. He looked out the window and saw a torrential thunderstorm hitting DC. "I'll go make up the guest room."

"Why?" Mac inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Look outside, you think I'd let you go home in that?" Nate pointed toward the window.

"Nate, I'm a Marine –" Mac started but Nate cut her off.

"So am I, and if I had a messed up ankle and it was raining like that, there'd be no way I'd be going home." Nate headed down the hallway and Mac hobbled after him.

"That's very sweet, but I have no pyjamas. I didn't exactly plan to face-plant into the pavement today." Mac was standing out in the hallway and a pair of sweats flew out of Nate's bedroom an hit her in the face. "Subtle." Mac commented.

"They're from my freshman year at Penn State, I outgrew them and haven't been able to wear them since then." Nate came walking back out of the room.

"Penn State? I thought you went to Princeton?" Mac questioned.

"Penn State undergrad, Princeton for my Masters." Nate leaned up against the wall in the hallway.

"If my Minnesota friends could see me now." Mac commented as she looked down at the sweats. "We used to laugh at the Penn State kids."

"Don't make me show you what we used to do with willing, pretentious Minnesota girls." Nate replied as he turned back toward his bedroom.

"You haven't got it in you, Nittany Lion!" Mac challenged. Nate turned on heel, picked Mac up and threw her over his shoulder. "You would think I would know better then to challenge a Marine." Nate threw her down on the bed. And pounced, bracing his arms and holding himself up in a sort of push up position over her. Mere inches physically separated their bodies, then Nate laughed, smiled and rolled away.

"Night, Golden Gopher." Nate replied as he walked across the floor of the room and out the door.

"He's got to be the only man that's ever had me in that position and not just gone for it." Mac whispered to herself. "A girl could get a complex." She laughed light-heartedly. There was something to be said for that bilge-switch that good men seemed to have. Nate seemed to know how far he could and should carry the joking, even if he pushed the lines farther then Harm ever would have, she thought.

Harm. There was the walking six foot four conundrum that seemed to have her every thought connected with his very being. She'd come to realize a lot of things in the last few weeks, one of which was that Harm and Meg had gotten really close. Harm always took lunch breaks away from the Pentagon at JAG and he always took them with Meg. It was hard not to be jealous, hell it was hard for her not to toss Meg looks that would melt her on the spot, but she was making an effort. She'd realized that she wasn't working with Meg, on anything, it was always Sturgis which was nice or Singer, where she would have preferred Meg.

That was one good thing about having _Commander_ Austin around the office. Singer had to realize that there were more women in her way to the top and learn to deal with it. That was enough to make work entertaining. She would talk to Harm if he had to wait for Meg to get back from court but it was never anything heavy, small talk about current events or what was going on at their respective jobs. The irony was not lost on her about how she was able to read into all the little gazes and touches that Harm and Meg shared as being reflexive of something deeper when only a few months ago, she had been on the receiving end of the same touches and glances and refused to read into them at all.

She realized that she felt guilty and often times, she condemned herself for it. She felt guilty about spending time with Nate like she was when what she thought she ought to be doing was working on herself, being just Mac for a while because if she was honest, she missed that part of her that Harm too missed. She felt guilty every time that she noticed that Nate was attractive because her mind told her that those were observations that were supposed to be meant only for Harm. She lectured herself, because part of her saw Harm with Meg and thought it wrong to sit here and pine when he obviously wasn't doing the same thing.

SAME TIME

HARM'S APARTMENT

NORTH OF UNION STATION

Harm had a grocery bag in one arm and the handle of his briefcase in his teeth as he fumbled through his pocket for his keys. When he heard giggles coming from inside the apartment, he opened the door to find Meg and his mom in the kitchen, making dinner. After walking in on a similar scene transpiring between his mom and Renee, quite a few months earlier, he was given a stern lecture by his mother on choosing the wrong women.

Harm knew that his mom was a damn fine actor. She had Renee completely fooled into believing that she was well-liked but Trish had some very reserved and pointed opinions on that young woman that she was all too willing to share. Even Trish Burnett couldn't fake the amount of fun that she was having right now. Harm could swear that he saw his mother playfully throw a piece of mushroom at Meg who returned fire with a piece of green pepper.

"I'm not interrupting anything am I?" Harm questioned as he let his briefcase fall to the floor.

"No, of course not. Meg and I were just making dinner and having girl talk." Trish walked over and gave her son a big hug. "This one's a keeper, son." She whispered in his ear.

"Yeah, come on, your mother and I were just making some good old Texas vegetarian chilli and you're late." Meg lectured as she finished stirring the pot on the stove.

"Dinner with two beautiful women; who am I to refuse?" Harm smiled as he walked over into the kitchen.

"Harmon, did I tell you that we heard about that performance you put on at the United Nations young man? Frank went into work the next day, with a copy of USA Today, telling everyone that he came across how proud of you he was. He had that newspaper framed, it's hanging in the den, over the fireplace at home." Trish was beaming and Harm repressed a chuckle at his stepfather's enthusiasm.

"Does this mean he's going to stop offering me jobs at Daimler-Chrysler?" Harm inquired.

"Not a chance, he said that it does mean that your potential salary just doubled, though." Trish returned as she took the bag of groceries from her son and started putting them away.

"So, mom, what are you doing in town anyway?" Harm questioned as he stood over the stove with Meg, taking the pot of the burner.

"Do I have to have an excuse to visit my son?" Trish retorted and he got peculiar looks from both his mom and Meg.

"I think it's very nice that your mother came to see you." Meg commented in passing.

"Hey, if you two are going to team up on me, I at least deserve some help." Harm protested.

"Well Sergei should be home any minute shouldn't he?" Meg asked innocently and Harm's eyes went wide as he saw his mother stop in her tracks.

"Ixnay on the Ergei Say." Harm whispered and watched as his mother turned slowly toward him.

"You mean to tell me that he's living with you? Harmon, how could you not tell me about that! I realize that I wasn't exactly the most supportive of you when I found out that he existed but have we grown so far apart that you won't tell me that you're Russian half-brother is living with you in Washington?" His mother started to rant.

"Mom, it just slipped my mind, honestly. Things have been kind of hectic at work, I've spent a few weeks globetrotting recently and in all the excitement, I guess I just kind of forgot to tell you." Harm winced and reeled protectively back near Meg.

"He really has been, Mrs. Burnett, I don't think I've seen Harm use a phone, except for work in weeks and since he's always on call it's kind of tough for him even then." Meg explained and watched as Trish came down off her motherly pulpit.

"I know dear, it's just sometimes this boy can be so stubborn that he thinks he has to take on the world single-handedly. He doesn't realize that the good Lord gave him family and friends to help in that little endeavour." Trish gave her son a pat on the back.

"Why do I get the innate feeling that I'm being trained?" Harm questioned looking from one woman to the other.

"Because you're catching on." Meg replied with a cute smile and every one headed over to the dinner table to eat. The night was basically spent with Trish and Meg exchanging stories and tossing Harm gazes that said 'oh really', every few seconds. Harm was beginning to feel like a teenager whose mommy was chaperoning his date. Is that what this was supposed to be with Meg? A date? The mere prospect dredged the last few months up in a grim comparison. All the personal turmoil had to be shoved aside because this was probably the most fun he'd had in a little while, despite finding the whole thing just a little awkward.

A little while later, his mom decided to head back to her hotel after making lunch plans with Meg for the next day, something which made Harm more than a little nervous. He couldn't have lunch with her because Sturgis and Admiral Chegwidden were coming over to help him with the apartment renovations he was making so that Sergei would have his own room and wouldn't have to bunk on the couch any more. The three of them had developed a most interesting renovating style, they would work for a few hours but it always seemed to turn into them watching TV and drinking beer.

Sergei had insisted Harm get a TV and Harm, having felt guilty about his brother sleeping on the couch, obliged this particular request. Saturday would normally end with Meg or Harriet playing the designated driver and taking them home. So, the prospect of Meg having some fun at lunch with his mother was making him self-conscious but he was happy that his mom finally had someone in DC that she liked to talk to.

So, after his mom left, Harm and Meg settled down on the couch to watch the movie that he had rented. About halfway through, she fell asleep on his chest and a few minutes later, he too was coasting through the dreamscape. Sergei got in from his meeting a little later that evening to find Meg asleep on his brother's chest, wrapped in his brother's arms and sitting where he normally slept. "Way to go, brother!" Sergei whispered happily before heading off to Harm's room to sleep.

1724 ZULU

ROSS COTTAGE

CHINCOTEAGUE, VIRGINIA

"Mac, you really didn't have to come. Seriously, like do you have any idea how many questions that my family is going to ask you? I'm begging you, when I get out of the car, take it and drive back to DC." Nate pleaded as they pulled up to the large turn of the century cottage.

"Come on, it could be fun and since they're never going to be seeing me again, I could lie to your family for you." Mac smiled maniacally as Nate threw the car into park. "I could tell them we're having hot passionate sex for instance." Mac joked and she watched as Nate's features turned to annoyance rather quickly.

"Great, something like that will only lead to more questions. You know, they're already going to make the afternoon hell for me, I don't need you helping them." Nate commented dryly as the two of them climbed out of the car. "I'm begging you, Mac. Drive back to DC, I'll even give you a few bucks to get a few pints of Ben & Jerry's for yourself today." Nate was now going so low as to resort to bribery, something Mac knew he only did when he was really desperate.

"No, your mother invited me and I intend on staying." Mac protested in a no nonsense tone.

"Fine, but you're going to be bored out of your skull." Nate commented as they started walking across the front lawn. A little rugrat kid of about four or five came running across the lawn toward Nate. "Simon Ross, come give your uncle a hug!" Nate demanded as the young man launched himself into his uncle's arms.

"I missed you, Uncle Nate." The young man admitted as Nate lifted him up off the ground. "Who's that?" He questioned looking over at Mac.

"That's my friend Mac." Nate responded.

"She's pretty." Simon giggled and Mac smiled at the young man.

"Well, little boys who call me pretty get to call me 'Sarah'." Mac replied.

"There's a girl named Sarah in my kindeegarten class. She has cooties, do you have cooties?" Simon questioned innocently as Nate lowered him back to the ground.

"Nope, your uncle gave me a cootie shot." Mac replied, playing into little Simon's game.

"I'll just bet he did." A new voice said and Mac looked up from the young man who had been talking to her.

"Nice to see you too, Steve." Nate commented. "Mac, this is my little brother, detective sergeant Stephen Ross. Steve this is Mac."

"No, no, this woman is too pretty to share a name with a transport truck. What's her name, Nate?" Steve protested.

"Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie." Mac extended her hand, her use of rank caught Nate's brother off guard.

"Marines, Grunts or Zoomies?" Steve questioned as he shook Mac's hand. Mac laughed, this guy was obviously a Marine brat.

"Marines." Mac replied with a smile.

"Oh, you're in trouble. There's more Marine brass in this backyard then you can shake a stick at and Nate, if dad finds out that she's a Marine, you'll never hear the end of it. Why in God's name did you let her come, knowing all this." Steve questioned, amidst a few condescending laughs.

"_Let _me come? I'll have you know that I practically had to drag his sorry Marine six out here today." Mac retorted, leaving Nate looking slightly embarrassed but nodding in the affirmative to back up Mac's story.

"Oh God, my day just got infinitely more entertaining. Have fun, come on, Simon, let's go find your mother." Steve led his son away from Nate and Mac.

"You know, he thinks we're sleeping together now." Nate questioned.

"I didn't tell him that, I just worded the truth so as to make him believe that. I told you I could lie without lying." Mac had a happy little condescending smile stuck between her cheeks.

"If I need ever need a lawyer, I'm calling you." Nate replied dully. Eventually, Mac was introduced to Nate's sisters, both of whom seemed to be judging her like a female predator who was hunting their brother.

"So, the Marine is finally here." A gruff older voice chimed in from behind them. Nate and Mac turned around slowly. "And who's this young lady, Nathan?"

"Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, USMC, sir." Mac supplied, sensing Nate's tension.

"Nice to meet you, Colonel, but you don't have to 'sir' me any more. I'm not in the Corps, they took my uniform the second after I decided to give it up." Jack Ross replied. "You picked a Marine this time, at least your loyalty to the Corps didn't completely dissipate, son."

"Gee, Dad, it took you thirty seconds to bring that up, you're right mom, he has changed, he wouldn't have made ten seconds, last time we talked." Nate shot back sarcastically.

"Nathan, you'll not talk to your mother that way." Jack Ross returned verbal fire at his son. Mac slipped away from the situation. Nate's brother Steve motioned for her to come sit with his family while Nate and Jack had it out.

"So why do your dad and Nate hate each other so much?" Mac questioned as she took a seat at the picnic table.

"Both my brothers were attached to the 1st MEF in Desert Storm. My older brother Preston was an infantry officer and Nate was, as you probably know, attached to the Special Ops sniper corps. One day, Nate was set up in a minaret in Kuwait city as the MEF moved toward the airport. He could see Preston a little ways off in the distance below. Two guerrillas came out of nowhere towards Preston's boys and Nate caught one of them in his crosshairs and dropped him before he could do any damage. The other guerrilla got a shot off and hit Preston below the ribs before Nate dropped him with his next shot. The bullet missed Preston's vital organs but it nicked his spine and he was paralyzed from the waist down after that. Preston was a paraplegic and he couldn't serve anymore so, after he got out of the hospital, he put his old service sidearm in his mouth." Steve imitated the sound of a gun. "Nate's always blamed himself and I think, dad's always blamed him."

"It wasn't Nate's fault, thought. He shot the most imminent threat, he did his duty." Mac retorted, her understanding of Nate Ross, deepening slightly after hearing the story.

"I know that, hell even the Marine Corps recognized that. That shot was the longest recorded distance from sniper to kill in Corps history but none of that matters Nate or my dad because Nate was nanoseconds too slow on the draw. You have to understand, Nate and Preston were put in competition with everything growing up. My dad wanted his boys to follow in his footsteps, in the Corps, more specifically in the infantry, at Annapolis, pretty much everything." Steve continued and Mac listened intently.

"Talk about living vicariously through your kids." Mac commented dryly.

"Dad forgave Nate for doing NROTC instead of Annapolis, he forgave him for going sniper instead of infantry because my dad couldn't deny that Nate had talent with a scope but my pop never got over Preston and in my dad's mind, he's had to forgive Nate for too much already." Steve concluded as he picked up Simon and put him on his knee.

Piece by piece, for Sarah MacKenzie, the puzzle that was Nate Ross, fell into place.

1647 ZULU

GARDINIA'S

WASHINGTON, DC

Meg and Trish sat at their table talking over a plate of pasta and some water. Lunch had been enjoyable for the large part. Their conversation had been kept light and to topics in which they were both versed; mostly Harm. Trish noticed the little gleam that crept into Meg's eye and the lilt in her voice when they talked about Harm. Meg practically thumped her chest when she talked about how adept Harm was at his new job and how proud she was that he was expanding that need of his to save the world to a more global scale.

Trish Burnett was content. She knew that there was a good woman in her son's life that seemed more then willing to both take care of and put up with him. That's why she was merely content rather then ecstatic or overjoyed at the prospect. Harmon had a young woman in Meg who seemed to dote on him and she was such a nice girl that Trish would hate to see her get hurt but she knew her son, more importantly, she knew the way that her son talked about one Sarah MacKenzie.

She had never met Mac but it didn't take an Einstein or Edison to acknowledge that Harm had rather deep feelings for her. The main concern for Trish was to keep any and all parties involved from getting hurt. Hence her dilemma. Mac and Harm had hurt each other……a lot. So she wasn't sure that they were the best match to keep people from getting hurt, in fact that scenario could feasibly end up hurting everyone involved. Meanwhile, Harm and Meg wasn't that much better. Mac would be hurt and Harm might be committing himself to a woman who would never wholly occupy his heart, which would, over time make him miserable.

It all led up to the one question that Trish Burnett needed to ask. She reached across the table and took Meg's hands in her own. She paused a moment before looking up at the younger woman. "Meg, dear, I have a rather serious question to ask you. I realize that it may be awkward, but as a mother this has been nagging at my mind. I hope you understand."

"What is it, Mrs. Burnett?" Meg asked, slightly worried.

"Are you in love with my son?" Trish asked, locking on Meg's eyes.

"I……I…don't know, I think maybe, yeah, I think I might be." Meg sounded unsure enough that Trish's worried subsided slightly.

"Thank you for being honest, dear and don't worry. Your secret is safe with me." Trish smiled wisely as she lightly patted the young woman's knuckles.


	8. To Seek a Newer World

_A/N: We were pretty sure that we'd heard anything; then we got the reviews for the last chapter. We found a Mac/Nate shipper and someone asking for more angst. Now we realize that this isn't reflexive of the majority of you but we felt necessary to repeat that this is going to be a longer story so more angst is coming but we decided to mix in some humour with this chapter as a reprieve. _

_A/N2: We know no one suggested this actress for the Peach character, but with the way the guys wrote it, we literally just couldn't think of anyone else to play the role; if you can think of someone else, the casting is subject to change but we just couldn't our apologies._

_Guest Starring:_

_Carla Gugino as Nicole 'Peach' DiPiccio_

It was around 1100 on Saturday morning; Harm was sitting in the apartment with Sergei, having a late breakfast. The two of them hadn't spent a whole heck of a lot of time together since Sergei had been brought back to the States in early February. Harm was constantly being called away on work and Sergei was having a remarkable amount of success on the Washington dating scene. This of course led Sturgis to make a few comments about Sergei, 'upstaging' his brother.

Harm was taking it all in stride though; the job that he was falling into at the Pentagon had some real interesting facets. It seemed like everyday, warning bells were going off. Everyday they picked up on some money trail or some arms deal or something that became like open smoke signals over the Sahara. It all led Harm to wonder just how much the analysts in the intelligence community had missed in the time leading up to September 11tth. That was something less then pleasant to consider.

He had just finished rinsing the dishes from breakfast in the sink when the phone rang in his apartment. "Rabb." Harm answered the phone.

"Harm? Nate Ross here, you need to get Sergei and get him down to the State Department now." Nate sounded hurried.

"Nate, what's going on?" An instant panic claimed Harm's tone.

"I can't tell you, listen you've just got to get down to the Truman Building with Sergei, alright?" Nate responded.

"Is this that important?" Harm asked.

"This imminently affects Sergei's future in this country." Nate replied before cutting his end of the connection. Harm dropped the phone back into the cradle. He had a panic stricken look on his face as he strode across the room.

"Sergei, get your stuff, we have to go, like now." Harm stated authoritatively.

"What is the matter, brother?" Sergei inquired, slightly unnerved to see his brother in such a mood.

"I just got a call we have to go down to the State Department." Within minutes, both Rabb boys were on their way down to the State Department.

1653 ZULU

HARRY S TRUMAN BUILDING

FOGGY BOTTOM, WASHINGTON DC

Harm pulled the Lexus into the parking garage where Nate Ross was waiting for him. Nate looked like anything but the stereotypical government official. He was wearing a light spring jacket over a blue "The Who" t-shirt and American Eagle blue-jeans. When Harm pulled the car into a parking space he looked right at Nate in an attempt to read his expression but that damn Marine stoicism wasn't giving anything away.

"Nate, what's up, you've got me on a five alarm panic here." Harm, Sergei and Nate started walking through the parking garage toward the front door and lobby of the Truman Building.

"It's just like I told you, Harm, something has come up which has imminent bearing on Sergei's future in this country." Nate's tone carried a grave inference as he guided them through the glass doors and through the lobby into what were the very bowels of the State Department. Harm stopped when he saw a crowd gathered in between the cubicles and Secretary of State Malcolm Anderson standing at the front of the crowd.

"Are you Sergei Zhukov, young man?" The Secretary of State inquired, looking at Sergei.

"Ye…Yes, sir." Sergei replied.

"Would you raise your right and hand and repeat after me, please?" Anderson asked and watched with a wise smile as Sergei raised his hand as he had been instructed. "I hereby declare, on oath, that I absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state, or sovereignty of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen." Anderson stated aloud and Sergei repeated after him, if with some hesitation. "That I will support and defend the Constitution and laws of the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same." Anderson continued and Harm looked on with pride as Sergei's English picked up and he repeated the oath with a little more fluidity. "that I will perform work of national importance under civilian direction when required by the law; and that I take this obligation freely without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; so help me God." With that Secretary Anderson concluded the Oath of Citizenship and shook Sergei's hand.

"The Oath of Citizenship? You called us down here for the Oath of Citizenship? Why couldn't he just take that at an INS office on Monday morning?" Harm asked somewhat annoyed.

"We got proof of his genealogy late last night, so I set this up pretty quick. Besides, how many immigrants do you know that get to have their Oath of Citizenship read to them by the Secretary of State?" Nate questioned with 'give me a break' kind of look.

"I should have known you'd pull off something extravagant like this." Harm whispered back.

"I am American now, brother!" Sergei stated joyously.

"You certainly are." Harm replied as he pulled Sergei into a hug. "That means we can get you a job now."

"I have an idea there as well." Nate interjected.

"You need a hobby." Harm turned toward his co-worker.

"Hey, just hear me out." Nate raised his hands into the surrender position. "Sergei, did you like being a Helo pilot in Russia?"

"Very much, I do even miss it from time to time." Sergei answered.

"Are you telling me that you've set it up that he can fly Helos here in the States?" Harm felt like he was going to hug the State Department official.

"Eventually. Sergei, how would you like to follow in your father's and brother's footsteps?" Nate turned toward the young Russian.

"I would like this very much." Sergei's eyes grew wide.

"You aren't talking about sending him to Annapolis?" Harm questioned.

"I sure am. He qualifies. His grades are right up there, but apparently it was hell trying to track them down. He's the son of a Naval serviceman and for my piece de resistance, I arranged the circumstances to get him a recommendation from a four star Marine Corps General; since the Navy doesn't have combat Helos." Nate explained.

"I'm going to owe you big for this, aren't I?" Harm asked.

"Just don't expect a birthday gift this year." Nate returned.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Ross." Sergei enthusiastically shook Nate's hand.

"Not a problem, kid. How would you two like to meet the team that helped get Sergei into the country?" Nate asked.

"I owe these people; I think that I'd better at least meet them." Harm agreed and the two Rabbs followed Nate through the rows of cubicles to an open mini bullpen of cubicles at the other end where sat two guys buy computers who were tossing paper airplanes back and forth at one another.

"Harm, Sergei; this is Spinner and Morley. They were my go-to guys for getting Sergei rushed through the immigration process." Nate introduced Harm to the two men.

"Derek Morley, Nate you forgot Peach." Morley shook Harm's hand.

"Alan Knox." Spinner shook Harm's hand as well.

"I didn't forget Peach; she's just not here right now. Makes no sense to introduce someone whose not there." Nate sniped back.

"Except that I'm here right now." An alto feminine voice joined in the conversation from behind Nate and Harm. Harm and Nate turned to face her. "Nicole DiPiccio." She reached out and shook Harm and Sergei's hands. "So, Hercules and Achilles have decided to step out of mythology and walk among the mortals again."

"I'm Hercules." Harm taunted in a whisper that made Nate chuckle slightly.

"Gee, Peach, with the way that you've moped around here since Nate left, I thought you'd be kissing his ass to have him back. Not to mention other parts of his anatomy." Spinner taunted with a conniving smile.

"Spinner!" Peach practically shrieked out.

"Something I should know, kiddies?" Nate looked around at his former co-workers.

"Yeah, Nate, Peach said…" Morley's voice was stopped by Peach's hand over his mouth.

"I said absolutely nothing, now why are America's new coverboys here?" Peach's tone was terse.

"Did I do something to upset you? I mean what's with the serious case of bitch-itis this morning?" Nate questioned with a furrowed brow and a very suspicious tone.

"You reprehensible, arrogant fuckwit! You think just because you and Captain America here make the cover of Time magazine, you can come in here and talk to me like that?" Peach fired back with an obvious ire in her tone.

"I guess we have a problem." Nate's tone turned an almost gravel kind of serious.

"Yeah, I guess we do." Peach shot back snidely.

"Let's see if we can't just step into my old office and sort out what it is that crawled up you this morning." Nate replied, his jaw set firm.

"Lead on, McDickhead!" Peach replied and the two of them went stamping off toward Nate's old office, the door slammed like a clap of thunder behind them.

"Are they always like that?" Harm questioned the two guys in the cubicle.

"No, this is definitely a first for them." Spinner replied with curious smirk.

"Dude, did Peach just call him a fuckwit?" Morley joked, having obviously come late to the joke.

"Wait; what about that time with Petra Triescu?" Spinner turned away from Harm toward Morley.

"Shit, I forgot all about that. Nate and Peach were inches from a knock down, drag out, street fight for weeks after that." Morley was laughing quite openly.

"Care to elaborate, gentlemen?" Harm asked looking from Morley to Spinner awaiting an explanation.

"Petra Triescu is like the Heidi Klum of the diplomat world. Completely unattainable for most men. Nate is nothing if not humble, so he'd normally never go after her. Anyway, about eighteen months ago, or so, we were all at this big summit with countries hoping to join NATO and Petra was there as part of the Latvian delegation. Nate gets a few glasses of wine in him, not enough to make him drunk or anything but just enough to lower his inhibitions. Morley here dares him to go ask Petra for a dance, well one thing leads to another and they end up in his hotel room, later that night. Well, a few hours later, Peach goes knocking on Nate's door to go over notes for the conference the next morning and when Nate comes to the door, he opens it enough that Peach can look in and see Petra lying naked on top of the covers. Well, she basically retreated into a shell for the rest of the conference until we all got back here when she blew up at him." Spinner informed Harm with a comical smile and a few hand gestures.

"Why was she pissed? Were they dating at the time or something?" Now it was Harm's turn to look confused.

"No, Peach is just like completely in love with the guy. None of us understand it, either, because none of us have any indication that Nate's ever even given her a second look. I mean, she's pretty damn good looking but Nate either doesn't notice or doesn't care." Morley explained in what Harm was beginning to recognize as his southern California, surfer way.

"I'm sure he notices. Maybe, I don't know, maybe he's afraid of screwing up being friends with her or maybe he's just afraid of hurting her." Harm had to pause for a minute, those excuses sounded way too familiar.

"Or maybe he's Nathan Ross and he just works too goddamn hard to look beyond his computer screen." Spinner joked.

"Yeah, okay Mr. MIT, can decode Cyrillic and Arabic encryptions in under ten minutes." Morley shot back. "Hey, Spinner, you still got that microphone in Nate's old office?"

"Hey, yeah, I forgot all about that. We never took that out after Nate left." Spinner turned toward his computer and punched in a few keys and Media Player came up with a live feed over the speakers of the wireless microphone in Nate's old office.

"_Jesus Christ, normally you can be pretty nice, but this takes the fucking cake. Did you go from zero to bitch in the time it took you to wake up this morning?"_ The voice was Nate's and it was carrying a little more edge then Harm was used to hearing.

"Ten bucks, she slaps him." Spinner stated.

"Fifteen." Morley replied and shook Spinner's hand.

"They really talk to each other like that?" Harm questioned, his eyes wider than saucers.

"These two have a policy of complete and utter honesty with each other that would scare the crap out of most people." Spinner replied absently as he turned his attention back to the green sound spectrum on the screen.

"_What's the matter Nate? No petite, big-breasted Eastern European women in your bed when you woke up this morning?"_ Peach's voiced was tainted with sarcasm.

"_You're faulting me for having sex? Maybe that's your problem, not getting any Peach? Pity, might loosen you up!"_ Nate shot back with an almost taunting tone.

"Oh, this just got personal." Morley stated with a mock grimace.

"That boy's gonna get slapped." Harm added.

"Does Mr. Ross have a death wish, brother?" Sergei asked.

"It would seem that way." Harm responded.

_"My sex life is none of your business!"_ Peach shouted back at a level that almost negated the use of the microphone to be heard.

_"But apparently mine is your_ _business? Can't have it both ways. So is that your problem, Nicole? Your bed just a little too cold at night?"_ Nate retorted, her comment having thrown him on the defensive.

_"Contrary to popular belief, Nathan, not everything is solved with a little bit of slap and tickle." _Peach was returning fire still but the conviction in her voice was deadening.

_"Don't bullshit me, Nicole, I know you too well. If this wasn't about sex, you wouldn't keep talking about it, just like you wouldn't be staring at my crotch right now."_ Nate's voice took on a tone of smugness, like he knew he was going to triumph.

_"That's what it is with me isn't it? I'm the one woman in the world that doesn't live for Nate Ross and his fabulous body!"_ Peach's voice was back a forceful vengeance…then she realized the context in which she had used the word 'fabulous'.

"_Fabulous? Really? I think you just lost the argument, Peach."_ Nate sniped almost masterfully.

_"Fuck you."_ Peach shot weakly. Then they heard the one sentence that every guy wants to say after a woman says those words to him but very few men have ever successfully gotten out.

_"Yeah, you'd like to._" Nate spat out and the line went silent. The cubicle was silent too. Every guy had probably thought those words at some point in his life but none of them dared say them. Now, Nate Ross had and something was going to come of it. After a few seconds of tension thicker then an English fog, the sound of an open palm hitting a cheek at a high speed could be heard.

"Fifteen bucks, please." Spinner extended his hand to Morley who placed the money in it. "Thank you."

"Saw that coming. Why did you bet?" Harm questioned.

"Nate can normally talk his way out of tight spots." Morley explained. Nate came walking out of the office rubbing his very red left cheek. He looked over to find everyone looking up at him kind of like they were hiding something.

"Spinner, you had the microphone on, didn't you?" Nate asked.

"Uh……what microphone, boss?" Spinner covered weakly.

"Busted." Sergei joked and the guys couldn't help but laugh.

"Come on, Nate, we'll go back to my apartment and ice down your cheek with a Coors." Harm gave Nate a pat on the back as he, Sergei and the beaten Assistant Secretary of State walked back out to the parking garage.

1806 ZULU

HARM'S APARTMENT

NORTH OF UNION STATION

Harm and Nate went to work on the renovations in Sergei's room. Today they had to put the insulation in the newly constructed walls before they could lay the outer shell of the walls and do any painting. "So, Nate, what's the real deal with you and Peach, you two didn't sleep together did you?"

"No. I wouldn't mind, I mean, I'm sure it would be fantastic, you saw her body. It's just that it would be hard to reconcile doing that and then not trying again the next morning at work." Nate joked as he negotiated the insulation around the wiring. "But look who I'm talking too, you know what I'm going through, you've had to work with not only Mac but Meg for the better part of the last decade."

"Hey, our situations aren't that similar. The women I worked with weren't in love with me." Harm protested.

"Do you need a shovel for all that bullshit?" Nate returned. "Meg is so in love with you, I'm honestly surprised that she hasn't blown you in public yet."

"Hey, that was uncalled for." Harm stopped what he was doing.

"But true. As for Mac, well I'm so goddamn confused when it comes to where you and her stand that trying to figure it out would probably take a map of the stars and several glasses of very potent gin." Nate joked light-heartedly.

"We're not that screwed up." Harm protested and Nate tossed him a glare that said 'oh really?' "How much do you know?"

"I know about Sydney, Norfolk, her engagement party and the mistletoe from Christmas this year for sure but I think there might be a few underlying currents I've yet to fill in." Nate smiled smugly.

"I can't bullshit you then, huh?" Harm deadpanned.

"Not if you tried." Nate returned as they finished with the insulation.

"Can we just agree that the less said about Mac's and my relationship, the better?" Harm suggested.

"Agreed." Nate nodded lightly as Harm walked over to the fridge to get them each another beer.

"So, what do you think is toughest part about working with a beautiful woman? Seeing them after having a sex dream about them, or getting caught fantasizing about them while they're talking to you?" Harm laughed lightly as he asked the question.

"Definitely got to be the dreams. They become like PTSD flashbacks. One minute you're talking by the coffee machine, the next you just see that picture of her in the dream the night before on your kitchen table." Nate answered.

"Or on your desk at work." Harm added.

"The back seat of your car." Nate sounded almost introspective.

"The shower." They both said simultaneously. "I swear every man in the world has had that fantasy." Harm laughed boisterously.

"No doubt. Then there's the awkward moment where you're caught thinking about the dream and you hear the words: 'you haven't been listening to a word I've said'; that kind of gets weird." Nate popped the cap off his beer.

"If I had nickel every time…" Harm started.

"I hear ya, we'd both be very rich men." Nate and Harm chuckled slightly.

"To working with beautiful women." Harm raised his beer bottle.

"I'll drink to that." Nate clinked his beer bottle against Harm's. The two of them sat there drinking and watching baseball for the rest of the afternoon. They never did finish the wall.

1348 ZULU

THE PENTAGON

ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA

"You egotistical son of a bitch!" Peach came bursting into the Three Wise Men office to confront Nate. Nate looked from Mike to Harm.

"You two know Peach, right?" He deadpanned before lifting his eyes to meet her. "Good morning, Peach."

"Don't good morning me, you took Spinner and Morley from the State Department and attached them to your staff here. I want to know why you needed them so damn badly." Peach was now pissed off enough to be in what Nate had dubbed her 'demanding dominatrix' mood. He knew he had to diffuse this little time bomb.

"Morley, despite his obvious limitations is one of the best historical investigators in the game and Spinner is a master of Cyrillic and Arabic encryptions, I need both of them in the line of work I'm doing." Nate supplied as he tossed a manila folder on to his desk. "In answer to your next question, I didn't request to have you transferred because you're a negotiator and so am I, so having you here would be an exercise in redundancy. You're better served at State."

"Would you two gentlemen please leave, I don't want you to see anything that you might have to testify to." Peach said with a grim tone.

"Yeah, I was just going to go make out a living will." Mike got up out of his chair and sprinted for the door.

"And I was going to thank God that I don't feel the need to say stupid things." Harm too left the office. He and Mike walked through the outer office past Harm's yeoman and out into the hallways of the Pentagon. "That's the second time in three days, they argue enough to be married."

"Funny you should say that." Mike chuckled. "I've known Nate since he started working at the State Department. Actually, earlier, there were a few times that the Company called on him and his sniper rifle while he was in the Corps. Anyway, it's never been proven but there was always suspicion that the reason that Nate's first marriage went to shit was because his wife thought he was sleeping with Peach."

"Wait; Nate was married?" Harm reeled back in shock.

"Doesn't exactly seem the type, huh? Yeah, well, Nate busted his ass his first few years at State and got promoted pretty rapidly. After a few years they gave him his own team. Peach was assigned as his junior negotiator. They were close. Hell, I'm not ashamed to admit that even I thought they were sleeping together. I know better now, of course."

Suddenly Harm had a whole new understanding of Mic Brumby and it kind of made him queasy. He kind of understood that with how close he and Mac were, even when they were fighting, it was no wonder that someone could get the impression that he'd obviously gotten.

"Yeah, well, after Nate got divorced, that's when they got really close. We were all kind of on the 'it could happen any day now' watch for years. It was annoying as fuck. I had Spinner updating me with daily emails. Then about two years ago, the whole Petra Triescu thing happened. It was funny because it wasn't the first time that Nate and Petra had sex it was just the first time that they got caught." Mike stated and Harm's eyes went wide.

"You mean that they just have sex, they just get together and fuck like bunny rabbits for a while then go back to their lives?" Harm questioned in disbelief.

"Yeah, they're fuckbuddies. They first met about five years ago when the Latvian President visited Washington. After a date, they realized that they weren't emotionally compatible but physically they could set off a smoke detector. So, they set up a few rules. They can only have sex if they're in the same city on work and if they're not in a relationship with anyone else, other then that, it's all fair game. Anyway, after Peach found out about Petra she got kind of bitchy for a while and then things kind of smoothed out. I'd give my left nut to know what set her off this time." Mike chortled slightly.

A few silent minutes later, Peach came storming out of the office on the verge of tears and she headed one way down the hallways of the Pentagon. A few seconds later, Nate came walking out in a tirade of his own and he headed down the hallways in the opposite direction.

"Where do you think you're going?" Harm asked, catching Nate by the sleeve of his coat.

"To Quantico, I'm going to get drunk at the O Club, then go out on to the sniper range and shoot something." Nate replied.

"Booze and high-powered rifles? You're not about to live Charlton Heston's dream afternoon. Come on, you can get just as drunk here in DC. Besides, if we get enough liquor in you, you might tell us what happened in there." Harm guided Nate toward the door and his Lexus.

"Never happen." Nate quipped.

12 BEERS LATER……

"You know what she had the nerve to say? She had the nerve to say that I was just getting back at her for being angry about the Petra thing." Nate slurred.

"Were you?" Harm questioned trying to contain his laughter at his very drunk friend.

"Hell no, I told her the truth when you guys were in the room. I told her that she was just pissed that I invited Petra instead of her." Nate informed them.

"Yeah, buddy, you really have to learn that everything that pops into your head, doesn't have to come out of your mouth." Mike jested as Nate leaned further over the bar.

"She stood there like a deer in headlights." Nate started laughing hysterically. "I asked her why every fight we've had in the last two years seems to centre on that night and she….." Nate's laughter grew even louder. "You know what she said?"

"No, what?" Harm was on the edge of his seat. It was like living in a soap opera.

"She said, it was the first time that I ever acted immature about something work related." Nate informed his friends.

"Bullshit! What about that day you took all that Viagra before work and walked around with a raging hard on all day without hiding it? That was some funny immature shit, you made what $1300 off that bet?" Mike couldn't help but laugh at just the memory of the event.

"I forgot all about that. Damn, that day was funny. I was lucky that I rarely had to leave my office. Or how about the time I brought in the paintball gun and shot her in the ass?" Nate and Mike almost fell off their barstools they were laughing so hard. "Just marking my territory!"

"Don't forget the time you snapped her bra in front of the President of Mexico." Mike added.

"See, I do plenty of immature shit when I think the office could use some laughs." The alcohol was really starting to work on Nate's system now.

"The best though was when you put that 'honking makes me horny' bumper sticker on her car. Then, every time she tore it off, you'd put a new one on before you left work that day. I remember, you kept that up for like three months." Mike and Harm looked over to see Nate passed out on the bar.

"He really do all that stuff?" Harm asked Mike who was helping him ease Nate off the barstool and take him out to the car.

"Oh yeah, he's a ball of laughs if he's properly motivated. Nate has this inner frat boy that tends to come out once in a while. Like when he's drunk, or when he's horny, or when he's repressing." The two men carried him across the bar, stretcher style. "Becky almost threw a hairy canary when I told her that Nate was going to be my best man. Which reminds me, are you coming to the wedding next week?"

"Yeah, you didn't get my RSVP?" Harm questioned.

"Just making sure." Mike answered as he opened the door of the car and tossed Nate inside. "You wanna come to the bachelor party, it promises to be a lot of fun with Nate planning it."

"Sounds like fun." Harm added.

"What do we do with him now?" Mike inquired looking at his friend who was sprawled out across the backseat.

"Take him back to his apartment and call Mac, she's got this miracle hangover cure that I've needed a few times, she'll nurse him back to health." Harm suggested.

"_You're_ suggesting that Mac take care of Nate in this state?" Mike almost dropped dead from surprise.

"She's qualified, besides I've learned that I can trust that Nate's not going to try anything with Mac." Harm closed the door of the car and the two guys dropped Nate off at home.

0121 ZULU

NATE ROSS' APARTMENT

PENTAGON CITY, VIRGINIA

Nate was laying sprawled out on the couch being gently stirred by his shoulder. He dragged his eyelids open to see Mac above him. "I'm either dreaming or still drunk. Help me decided." Nate joked as he opened his eyelids the whole way. Mac pinched his cheek. "Alright, I'm obviously awake." Nate sat up on the couch too fast and the throbbing in his temples increased greatly. "I want to die." He whined.

"Drink this." Mac pushed a cup of orangeish-purplish liquid into Nate's face.

"This tastes like motor oil." Nate remarked after choking down the last of the liquid.

"Well this is what you get for drinking your own weight in beer." Mac thumped him soundly on the back.

"What is with women and hitting today?" Nate questioned aloud and Mac chuckled as she headed into the kitchen.


	9. Nor All Friends Tested

_A/N: Alright, you thought we weren't pulling punches before? Well, like we said, this is going to be a longer story so we upped the stakes and the angst. While there isn't a lot of it in this particular chapter, this chapter starts a story-arch that's going to last for a while. Stick with us, PLEASE, it will be worth it._

Oh God, my head. God were we drunk last night. Damn, were we hammered. It was Mike's bachelor party. So, naturally we all went to a strip club. Since Webb was Mike's partner for a few years at the Company, he was there too. As were Nate, myself, Spinner, Morley and DDCI Reid. Since Nate was the best man, it was up to him to pay for the night. Whatever we all wanted. Good, with what Uncle Sam pays him, he can afford it. I think Webb and I were racing to see who could down the most shots of Jack in a twenty minute span of time. I think I won, or lost if the pounding in my head is any indication. I know that my inhibitions must have lowered because pretty soon I was getting a lap dance and the guys were laughing their ass off.

I don't remember much after the bouncers kicking us out because Webb spanked a stripper. I do remember waking up in the holding cell just now. This would be incredibly funny, but as I look around for all the familiar faces from last night, I don't see Nate. Where the hell is he? Wait; he was the designated driver. They'd have no reason to hold him here. That sneaky son of a bitch, I'm willing to bet that he's laughing his Princeton ass off right now while we're sitting here rotting in this jail cell. Some Marine; what happened to 'leave no man behind'? I remember I asked Gunny that question at Mic's bachelor party, Gunny told me that the second half of that phrase was 'until the cops arrive, then run like hell'. Well, Nate certainly mastered that half of the phrase.

The memories of last night are starting to come back.

Flashback –

We all walked into the club around the same time. Nate had this sarcastic grin even then. I bet that maniacal bastard was planning his Houdini act even then. I remember that Spinner's eyes lit up when he saw the strippers and he couldn't get a seat that was close enough to them. God, he was practically on the stage. Nate was just leaning back against the bar. He told us that after that little episode with Peach last week, Mac made him swear off the drink, a pledge that he took willingly.

I remember this really hot stripper came out. I'm a guy, give me a break, I notice these things. Anyway, we were all hooting and hollering like cavemen. DDCI Reid was the worst. But that's the way it always is with married men. Nate paid to have every girl in the place push her breasts into Mike's face last night, talk about torture for a soon to be married man. Now I know why Becky was so damn pissed to hear that Mike had named Nate as his best man. With friends like Nate, enemies would be hard pressed to find a way to upstage his antics.

What else was there? Oh right, Webb had a few more drinks and he got kind of randy with this one stripper. The bouncers decided that they'd had enough when he spanked one of their dancers, we were asked to leave. Well everyone but Webb was 'asked', Webb was thrown out of the club forcefully. Then we all decided to pile in the car and go for a drive through the country in Nate's Chevy Tahoe. I believe that State Department boy was the one who suggested the game of mailbox baseball and just happened to conveniently have a baseball bat in the vehicle.

For those of you unfamiliar with the game, mailbox baseball is when one member of your drunken posse is stupid enough to dangle out the window holding a baseball bat while the driver does 100 km/h down a country road and this person flails around taking swings at mailboxes as they appear at the side of the road. Well, Webb was up to bat and I was in the warm up circle (the shotgun seat) and Webb only hit about two mailboxes. I took over when Webb missed his seventh mailbox in a row and ended up clubbing a cow with the baseball bat.

Then I remember Mike saying that he had to take a leak so Nate pulled the car over to the side of the country road. Mike wondered off into the bush. A few seconds later, Nate sent Spinner and Morley in after him and told them what to do. Their mission was to push Mike over, steal his pants and come running back to the car. Well, they did it. They came running back to the car with Mike's pants and underwear and Nate gunned the engine but went slow enough for Mike to think he could catch us and chase us.

Mike came running out of the bushes bare-assed and proceeded to chase us for a little over three miles with nothing on but a golf shirt. Eventually Nate pulled over and let him back into the SUV. I don't remember exactly when we got pulled over, must have been some time after that.

End Flashback –

"Where the hell is Nate!" Clayton Webb shouts as he stirs out of his slumber.

"Somewhere laughing his ass off that he was able to pull off this stunt of his again." Mike answers with a self-deprecating laugh. "Come on, Clay, he did the same thing to us at his _own_ bachelor party. He dusted off a classic, we fell for it _again_, so he's getting his laugh in." I have to admit, this _is_ pretty damn funny. It would be a hell of a lot more funny if he'd taken me with him though. I'm going to wring that scrawny State Department neck of his if I ever get a hold of him.

"Mike aren't you getting married in seven and half hours?" Morley asks as he paces in the cell.

"Yeah, well I'd say that being found in the Arlington County drunk tank the morning of your wedding is grounds for postponement." Mike rebuffs the question. It's about four in the morning. If Mac were here, she could tell me the exact time down to the second. Then again, if Mac were here, I'd be getting lectured right now and I don't think I could stand that.

As if on cue, the familiar frame of Nate Ross comes striding through the door into the hallway outside the holding tank and a sigh of relief passes through everyone in the cell. "Nate, thank God, you're here to bail us out right?" Spinner practically jumped through the bars of the holding cell.

"Hell no, I'm here to point, laugh and taunt, I don't have the necessary money to bail even one of your guys out, much less all of you. You tapped me out last night." Nate is smiling sarcastically and all I can think of is how much fun it would be to smack that stupid smile off his face. "Oh, but Harm, I did call Meg, she'll be here any minute to help with your current predicament."

"Nate, if I ever get out of this cell, you better run so far, so fast that I can't catch you." I warn, because right now I feel like an annoyed, drunken grizzly bear. Nate can't help but laugh at our predicament. I think everyone in this cell except for Mike wants to wring his neck and none of us can get past the wrought iron bars.

"Harm, by the way, I figured it was only fair to tell you that Mac knows too, and when she stopped laughing she told me to tell you 'not to drop the soap'. Have fun everyone." Then he steps back through the door and vanished from view.

I'm really going to kill him now. Of course he'd tell Mac, the two of them were probably laughing over this for a good long time before he walked through that door. My only saving grace is that most of their laughs were probably at Webb's antics since in all honesty, Nate was pretty good at preventing me from participating in any jackass antics. In typical Mac fashion there would be some witty repartee like 'don't drop the soap'.

Alright, well, on the upshot, someone is coming to bail us out. But, it's Meg and she's my date to the wedding in a few hours so that's probably not the best person to come bail me out. I suppose he could have called Sturgis or the Admiral, neither of which would have been preferable options. Neither of them would stop making jokes the next time we got together for a beer and calling Harriet wouldn't have been good since she's been kind of on edge with Bud on the Seahawk.

So, I guess Meg was really his only option. I'm still going to kill him though. You know what? I don't mind Nate Ross as much I think I did at one time. I mean let's examine the men that have tried to get close to Mac. Falcon, Lowne, Farrow, that detective that helped me find my stolen Vette, Bugme and now, Nate. Granted Nate isn't interested in a squeaking spring symphony with Mac, or if he is, he's playing those cards awful close to his chest. I couldn't blame him; Mac is a babe, plain and simple. I also suppose I could thank him. The Mac I once knew is back with a fury, except when she's at work, according to Sturgis she's still a man-eater there.

I think what I missed most about Mac though was the seeming purity that our relationship once had. The subtle romanticisms, those are the things I think that I missed most. Mac's enjoying those things now; the problem is that they're not with me. I worry about Mac more now, I think it's because I'm not sure how Nate sees her. There are a lot of ways for Mac to get hurt in this situation and that is something I will try hard to stop.

For some reason, this brings me to Meg. I don't know what to make of what's going on with Meg. It's not like we've kissed……on the lips or anything. All those weeks ago when the Admiral and I had that talk, I've been comparing and contrasting Mac and Meg ever since then and quite honestly, I have no idea what to do. There was a time when I would have said unequivocally that if I ever had a daughter, she'd look like Sarah MacKenzie, now that certainty is fading.

Someone once said "oblivion is a hell known only to fools"; that might have been Grandma Sarah, I'm not sure. Oblivion is currently my home address. I'm oblivious as to where I stand with Mac, somewhat less oblivious as to where I stand with Meg and completely oblivious as to whether or not I should consider Mac and Nate's friendship as a threat to my future prospects.

Right now, all I can do is lean on the bars of this holding cell and wait to be bailed out.

(Mac's POV)

Alright, the boy's were bailed out this morning. Not until after Nate and I laughed for about half an hour over the night's exploits. My life is like a vacuum right now, for as long as I remember, there's been this continuum in my social strata and Harm has always been the rock maintaining its stability. Harm and I haven't talked in quite a while, despite Nate's best efforts to get us to talk.

I haven't had sex in a little over a year. Just thought I should bring that up for reference. Since I got back from Chechnya more specifically. Yeah, Mic wasn't happy about that development. That should have been my first clue that a marriage between us was never going to work. I'm not a nympho, I think I have a very healthy sex drive but having sex twice since I broke up with Dalton is _not _healthy and when both those times were with Mic Brumby, I haven't been satisfied in an awful long time.

I said my life was like a vacuum right now, it is. Harm's no longer maintaining that stability in my life, he's too busy with Meg and Sergei's lives. I don't like that I had to find out from Sturgis that Sergei was going to Annapolis next year but I do consider it justice that Sergei's going to be a Marine. So, I needed some stability in my life and I found a new friend. Problem is, he's brilliant, funny and handsome not to mention a Marine to boot.

I swear, I'm not normally attracted enough to a man to just kiss him because he wears the right uniform but Nathan Ross is to BDUs as Harmon Rabb is to dress whites. We went out to Quantico to shoot last weekend, and every time he comes trotting out in that uniform part of me thinks I'm the Barbie that every little girl fixes up with her brother's GI Joe for a date because let's face it folks, Ken was gay. I didn't kiss Nate by the way but the urge was pretty damn strong.

I've controlled my attraction to Nate though and I've lectured myself for it repeatedly. My conscious mind (I will never forgive Jordan for teaching me that term) keeps telling me that it's an infidelity to Harm, but I think after seeing Harm and Meg together in the bullpen enough times, my conscious mind is starting to shut up.

Nate Ross is a male conundrum. He's affirmed my belief that God is male. Because just when I thought he'd tortured me enough with the puzzle that was Harmon Rabb, he threw Nate Ross in my path at the same time. I feel like Stevie Wonder doing a jigsaw for God's sake. I mean, most men wouldn't understand my relationship with Harm but Nate either understands or is making a concerted effort to, hell he's even trying to fix it. He doesn't hit on me, he does flirt with me but he always draws lines. This leads me to believe that he's either not attracted to me or because of Harm he just won't do anything about it.

The first option is okay, Nate's a cool guy to have around so having him as a friend is perfectly fine. The second option pisses me off. Harm's allowed to go off gallivanting with Meg and moving on with his life and I can't try and have a normal relationship, too? Haven't I suffered enough in life? I mean, Harm was the first man that I ever really trusted, that means that I was almost thirty before I could trust a man. Granted, that circle of men has grown over the years to include Bud, Gunny and the Admiral and now Nate but still, the first seventeen years of my life were an alcohol induced hell, haven't I earned at least seventeen years free of insecurity?

Another reason I'm convinced God is male. Anyway, I'm sitting here in the church, looking up at Nate who is standing next to Mike, faking a cough every time the priest uses the word 'love' and trying to remember that it's impolite to laugh at such immature antics. I don't know why Nate's been acting all teenagery recently. Not that I mind, sometimes it's an awful lot of fun to let your hair down with someone who's able to say 'fuck you' to what the world thinks.

Harm and Meg are a few rows back practically pushed shoulder to shoulder against each other. I noticed, in passing mind you, that Harm's arm was casually draped around her and I almost vomited. My vindictive side is itching to come out. The priest just asked for the rings and Nate, in his role as best man is doing his best Three Stooges impression to look like he's lost the rings. Eventually he handed them to the priest under threat of castration from the bride and they were exchanged. Nate resumes coughing every time the priest uses the word 'love' and I swear that Clayton Webb who is standing next to him is about to burst a kidney from contained laughter.

Finally the priest pronounces them man and wife and every one looks so happy as they walk back down the aisle. Nate shouts at the top of his lungs "On to the party" and Webb has had it, he falls to his knees in his hysterics. Anyone who was paying any attention saw Nate whispering jokes to Webb during the ceremony. I'm surprised the bride hasn't shot him by now. For the longest time when I went to wedding I used to picture Harm and myself at the altar, I haven't done that this time.

Now we're on the way to the reception. One of the few reasons I agreed to come with Nate was because he assured me that there would be Prime Rib at the reception, my Marine stomach can't turn down a good slice of beef. For some reason when I thought those words my mind went back to Harm, I think my libido has taken over my brain and is holding it for ransom.

Chloe's coming in next weekend, that's going to be fun. I have to think of something while we drive to the reception because focusing on Nate in a tux is hell on my virtue. We finally pull up to the banquet hall and Nate, having been raised in the family he was raised in, is the gentlemen and come around to open my door for me before taking my hand and leading me into the hall. I never feel like I'm on Nate's arm. I think it's because he assures me that he thinks of it more like everyone's looking at me, so he's my boy-toy.

He talks to me like I'm a friend, he doesn't walk on eggshells around me because I'm a woman which is something that it took a while to get used to. For all his aviator machismo, Harm's ego has nothing on Nate's at times. I know Bobbi tried to play down that Nate wasn't a diplomatic playboy but I've heard the scuttlebutt, I know about Peach and Petra, mostly from Mike so I know there are some weaknesses in his armour. The wedding party has to sit up at the head table so, Nate and I part ways and I go and sit with Nate's sisters Anna and Beverly who are friends of the bride.

Nate has to give a speech. I think he's been trying to pawn off the responsibility on Clay because he's on a sense of humour kick recently and I'm not sure that's going to play with this stuff shirt crowd. Nate just handed Clayton Webb a few cue cards and Webb now looks like he's back to trying to contain laughter. Nate's been trying this new rough look recently. He doesn't shave everyday, as you would expect, so he's got this rugged beard developing on his face. It took some getting used to, but I think it makes him look more masculine, more like a Marine if that's possible.

I guess, I don't know, at this point, I don't think I'm supposed to understand my life. I already know that I'm not supposed to understand men. Not that I would honestly try. It's just that every time that I think back over the last seven years, I don't think that there was anything more I could have done to show Harm how completely over the moon I was for him. Okay, getting engaged to another man was probably a bad way of going about things but I left Mic in Washington to chase Harm through a war zone. I think it was a little more then obvious who I preferred.

I'm trying not to pine. I really am. It's just so damn hard because I was in love with him for so long. It's just, every time that Harm and I have talked recently; it's been when he was picking Meg up for lunch. I am always the one initiating the conversation, something I never would have done normally, but I have this Marine that keeps telling me that if I really want Harm in my life, I have to make an effort. To which I normally respond with 'I'm always the one making the effort' and he responds with 'good, why stop now?'

Dinner was pretty good. Who am I kidding? It was exactly what my Marine stomach needed after that super-long Catholic wedding mass. Now's the time for the toasts and I see Nate reluctantly rise from his seat after tapping his glass with a fork. "Back after he first got engaged, Mike called me up and asked me to be his best man. You remember what I asked you when you called that day." Nate looked down at his friend.

"Yeah, you said, tell your dealer to cut the dosage." Mike chuckled slightly as did everyone in the room.

"That's right. He obviously didn't expect me to be serious because I'm still here talking to all of you. So, I had to pick whether to be serious or be funny and I actually prepared two speeches, I even have them both here with me but I figured that every one had enough of my antics after the ceremony so I decided on the serious speech. So, here goes. I've known Mike since I was a young Marine Corps sniper who still saw life as something that ended on the other end of my scope. That was a little more then a decade ago, through all that time Mike has seen me through some pretty rough stuff and after putting up with me for so long I can say that he really deserves all of the happiness and love that Becky brings to his life. Every man in this room should count himself lucky, if he were able to find that same happiness." Nate raises his glass off the table. "To Mike and Becky." The room repeated the toast and everyone, excepting Nate and myself who have both sworn off alcohol, downs their champagne.

Yeah, I got Nate to take the pledge last week. Mostly for his own health, that guy probably gets the worst hangovers of anyone I've ever met. After the toasts are over, the band leader calls the bride and groom out to the dance floor where they share a dance to The Lettermen's _When I Fall in Love_. After the first dance, the other couples make their own ways out on to the dance floor to join the happy couple. I notice Harm and Meg make their way out on to the dance floor and I feel my stomach twist and contort. They're pretty close. Harm's fingers are interlocked behind her back and his arms are around her waist if that's any indication. I feel like some weird voyeur.

"This seat taken?" A familiar voice asks and slides into the chair next to me.

"Hi." I responded dejectedly.

"Why so glum?" The question has its answer of course; the body language expert will figure it out soon enough. "I think you're reading too much into a dance, Mac." See, I told you he'd get it.

"It's not just the dance, it's everything. The lunches, the fact that he never really talks to me beyond talking about work, I hate it because it's all so frustrating. You know what, Nate? I'm tired of making efforts and getting no reward, it's either despondency or criticism with him and I'm just so damn tired." I throw my head into my hands and I try to come up with a plan for what exactly I'm going to do with my life.

Nate and I just sit here in a companionable silence. After a few songs, the band takes a break and a DJ mix CD begins to come through the speakers, I recognize this song. It's _I Need to Know_ by Marc Antony, it's hot and it's Latin and suddenly I have an idea. I grab Nate by the hand and drag him out on to the dance floor. "Mac, what are you doing?"

"Well, Major, in most countries, it's called dancing." I jest playfully.

"Yeah, Mac, this is a tango beat, in order to pull this off, you have to be able to let go of some inhibitions and surrender to your inner animal passion." Nate sounds weary but I don't care. All I heard were the words 'let go' and now I know I have to.

"I can take anything you dish out." I respond in a challenging tone. Nate extends my arm and leads me out further on to the floor before flawlessly whipping me into a spin that sends me directly into his waiting arms. I shouldn't be surprised, Nate's a diplomat, attending formal galas and dancing are a part of his job, though knowing him, he's probably a self-taught type.

His one arm is around my waist and the other is entwined with my own hand as he leads us around the floor. I grind my hips into him shamelessly. He said I had to surrender to my inner animal, well I didn't think he was expecting me to do so, so readily. He spins me around so that my back is now pressed up against his chest and his hand that had previously been at my waist is now on my stomach pressing me back against him. I challenged him with my earlier move and now he's reciprocating. Like I could have expected any less.

A crowd begins to gather around us. I hadn't even thought of the display that this might be making. Nate spins me out of the tight embrace and once our arms reach their full extension, I raise my chin to him in a challenge. He smiles somewhat maniacally before throwing his shoulders and spinning me around back into the dance. Then he does something rather skilful when I realize that I've gone right from the spin into a dip. My arms go up around Nate's neck but he had this planned so he's got both arms securely on my back before one shifts up my back and the other slides under the mid-thigh of my right leg, which I had kicked up into the air when he lowered me into the dip. His hand on the underside of my leg runs down toward my calf. In a want to counteract his startling move I lean up and bite for his lips, falling a few centimetres short purposefully.

He pulls me back up and we finish the last verse dancing with a similar flame. God, I feel like a woman right now. For the last time, Nate spins me so my back is pressed up against his chest. The first time he did this, one hand on my stomach secured me against him. That hand, this time, ran down my stomach, over to the side my hip and then down the front of my leg. I bite my lip and throw my head back against his shoulder and roll it as if he were bringing me to ecstasy. He just chuckles lightly and turns me back into his arms so I'm facing him.

The music stops and we're facing each other. There's applause and wolf whistles echoing through the room. God, I feel like I'm on fire and I'm panting. That was better then sex, well, sex with Mic anyway. "I didn't know that you could dance like that." I get out between gasps for air.

"With that kind of beat it's all about who your partner is, how willing they are to give in, you were amazing Mac." He comments with a smile.

"I'm going out to get some air, I think I need it after that, see you in ten?" I question as I head for the terrace. He hands me his jacket, knowing it's still cool outside at this time of year.

"Sure." He answers, I look back to see him walking over toward Mike and Webb.

(Harm's POV)

Okay, now I'm really going to kill Nate. First, I'm going to talk with Mac, then I'm going to kill Nate. Simply put, I no longer believe that Mac and Nate are only friends. Mac and I were……are friends and we never danced like that. God, she was passionate though. I don't know what's eating at me more, the fact that they did it or the fact that Mac looked so damn willing. What did I expect? Her to spend night after night, day after day, pining for me? Everyone in the hall was waiting for them to kiss at the end of that dance, the fact that they didn't tells me that there might still be hope.

I follow her out on to the terrace. It's a cold early April evening so she's got Nate's tuxedo jacket around her shoulders. She's just looking up at the stars and slowly, her breath is returning to its regular pace. "Some show you put on in there." Damn that was a stupid thing to say.

"This isn't _Footloose,_ Harm. Dancing is perfectly legal in this county." She fires back, okay I deserve that one.

"I'm not sure that I would exactly call that dancing." Must learn to think _before_ I speak.

"You're right, dancing doesn't quite cover it." Mac admits in her own sarcastic tone. I know I'm playing with fire, hell I'm begging to be burned just by being out here.

"More like dry-humping." I mutter under my breath and hope it wasn't loud enough for her to hear it.

"Well, St. Harmon's back I see. Tell me, did you come out here to lecture the heathen on what a sinner she is for dancing in such a provocative manner?" She shoots at me. Now, I'm playing possum with my life.

"It's just, Mac you can't deny that there was something sexual about that dance. You can't stand there and tell me that after what I saw, you and Nate are still 'only friends'." My tone is soft, hopefully this won't combust into a full fledged argument.

"No Harm, I'm not going to deny that there was something sexual and passionate and hell even satisfying about that dance. But you're reading too much into a dance." She starts to walk back toward the banquet hall.

"Sarah…" I start but the words are catching in my throat again. She turns to face me. We stand there silent for a while just looking at each other.

"Go back inside, Harm, I'm sure that Meg's waiting for you." She turns away from me and walks back into the banquet hall. Right now my mind is on fire with one question, it has nothing to do with Mac and Nate, no, this one's all about Mac and me. A few tears peak at the corners of my eyes and I wonder; if I had asked her, would Mac have ever danced with me that way?


	10. Always Open and Working Hands

_A/N: Did you enjoy Three Wise Men: Season 1? Hope so. Here's what's on tap for Season Two:_

_someone's death has major consequences_

_another character almost dies_

_someone starts a hot new romance_

_we learn more about Nate's screwed up past_

_there are some real close calls_

_and, oh yeah, a lot more angst_

"Hey Mac, who do you know that went to Penn State?" Chloe called from the bedroom and Mac froze on the spot in the kitchen.

"Why would you ask that Chloe?" Mac called back as she watched the popcorn in the microwave bounce erratically Chloe came back in holding a pair of Penn State sweatpants on her index finger.

"I know that you went to Minnesota and Duke and that Harm went to the Academy and Georgetown so who do you know that went to Penn State?" Chloe questioned once again.

"Just a friend of mine. I had to stay over at their apartment one day after I sprained my ankle running. I needed something to change into. Guess I never returned the sweats." Mac smiled weakly, slightly impressed that she was able to explain without mentioning gender which would to a Chloe style interrogation that would make the Gestapo proud.

"Does this friend have a name?" Chloe asked with a slight taunt to her voice.

"Nate." Mac admitted reluctantly.

"Your friend is a guy? Now is this a normal friend or is this guy a _friend_." Chloe hinted with an obvious insinuation.

"Chloe Madison!" Mac practically screeched.

"You can't blame me for caring, Mac. I've seen you get hurt a lot, so I worry when I find out about new guys in your life. I mean Mic hurt you the night he left and Harm's hurt you a few times so yeah, men around you make me nervous." Chloe explained.

"I know, sweetie, men around me make me nervous too." Mac joked right back.

"So, when am I going to meet him? I need to make sure he's a stand up guy and not about to hurt my big sister." Chloe asked, awaiting an answer from a very nervous Mac.

"Chloe, he's really busy. I mean with work and all…" Mac started, she was compensating, she knew that if she wanted to, she could drag Nate Ross away from work on a weekend. Heck, she'd done it every weekend for most of the last two months.

"Well, maybe we can hang out with Harm then." Chloe suggested.

"Actually, Chloe, Harm's been pretty busy with Sergei and his _friend_ Meg. Mac's voice left no question as to what she believed the nature of Harm's relationship with Meg to be. She'd seen Meg kiss him on the cheek in the JAG bullpen earlier that week.

"Oh, well, I'm sorry Mac, I guess I just thought that with Mic gone and Harm no longer working at JAG…" Chloe started but Mac cut her off.

"How did you know that Harm wasn't working at JAG anymore?" Mac questioned with an evident shock in her voice.

"Oh, I had to do news presentation in history class and I picked an article about that presentation that Harm gave at the UN a few months ago. It said that he was working at the Pentagon." Chloe informed her big sister.

"Chloe do you remember the guy who was in that picture with Harm on the cover of USA Today?" Mac asked, trying to steer the conversation away from a place where she might have to explain her recent confrontations with Harm.

"Yeah, the girls in my class thought he was a hottie." Chloe smiled broadly.

"That's my friend Nate." Mac offered simply and she watched as Chloe's features lit up.

"I hope I have your kind of luck when I grow up." Chloe remarked with a tone that portrayed a great deal of awe.

"What makes you say that?" Mac asked.

"Mac, think about it, you always end up with these gorgeous male friends. First Harm, now Nate, you're one lucky pup." Chloe laughed slightly.

"Alright Chloe, why don't you call Nate and see if he wants to do something tomorrow, since you're so anxious to meet him." Mac offered and Chloe went running off to the phone. "He's number three on the speed dial." Chloe hit the button and the phone rang.

"You got Nate." The voice chirped up on the other end of the line.

"Hi, um, this is Chloe." Chloe started talking.

"Right, Mac's little sister. What can I do for you, Chloe?" Nate asked, his smile almost emanating through the phone.

"We wanted to know if you wanted to hang out with us tomorrow." Chloe stated and waited for Nate to respond.

"That depends on what you and Mac want to do. If it involves nail painting, weird facial masks or reading Cosmo, I'm out." Nate joked and Chloe was forced to laugh.

"How about shopping and paintball, Nate?" Mac questioned as she walked into the living room.

"You want to take a sniper paintballing?" Nate questioned.

"Yeah, there are always some little punks around those places, we could screw with their minds and egos by giving them a Marine style whooping." Mac taunted her friend.

"Come on, Nate." Chloe added in a pouty tone.

"Hey, who would I be to pass up the opportunity to spend the day shooting pimply teenagers with paint?" Nate admitted. The phone conversation continued for a few more minutes before Mac hung up the phone.

2417 ZULU

HARM'S APARTMENT

NORTH OF UNION STATION

"Captain, Commander, we can't thank you two enough for taking little AJ off our hands this weekend so that I could go meet Bud for his liberty." Harriet handed her son over to Harm's outstretched arms.

"Not a problem, Harriet. This little guy's a lot of fun." Meg responded as she tickled little AJ under his chin. This caused the young man to giggle uproariously. Harriet left Meg with a few more instructions on nap times, when to feed him, what to feed him etc. Harm just stood off to the side nodding his head and catching about every other word of what Harriet was saying in her frantic pace.

"Alright, now you have my cell number if there are any questions and you know AJ's paediatrician's name, right?" Harriet double-checked as she walked out of the apartment.

"Yes, Harriet, now go or you'll miss your flight." Harm coached her out the door but not until she smothered little AJ's forehead with kisses. Harm closed the door behind her and then turned back toward Meg who was still holding little AJ in her arms. "Alright buddy, let's wash your mom's lipstick off your forehead, huh?" Harm ran over and got a rag from the kitchen and wiped the red marks off the little guy's forehead.

"Harm, where's Sergei tonight?" Meg questioned as they took little AJ over to the couch.

"He's got that interview with General Ross tonight." Harm answered her as he set AJ down on the couch before running over to check on the Mac and Cheese that was on the stove.

"I still can't believe he's going to Annapolis next year. How do you think he'll do?" Meg questioned as she tickled little AJ on the couch.

"Well, his English proficiency is coming along so I think he'll be fine. I just can't believe that a Rabb is going into the Marine Corps. I'll never here the end of it from Keeter or Sturgis or Mac for that matter." That was the first time that he'd really ever brought up Mac while in conversation with Meg. He decided to cover quickly. "And if word ever reaches the Gunny, my reputation will be shot to hell."

"It could be worse, Harm." Meg offered.

"How could it possibly be worse?" Harm laughed slightly as he strained the water out of the pot with the noodles.

"He could be a zoomie." Meg stated plainly.

"You're right, that would be worse." Harm nodded as he continued preparing dinner. A few minutes later, dinner was laid out on the plates in front of them. Over the next few minutes, Harm watched Meg spoon-feed little AJ and clean up his cheeks when he got a little messy. He got up from the table and walked into his bedroom for a second. Harm wasn't normally one for talking with God, but this seemed like a pretty good time to open the lines of communication.

He looked out into the living room and saw Meg playing with little AJ, both participants coincidentally having blonde hair. "I know what you're doing." Harm directed his words toward the almighty. "You're showing me, in a roundabout way, what life would be like with Meg. Why now and not six years ago when doing something about it would have made a lot more sense? If I was meant to be with Meg, why put Mac in my path? You know, Chaplain Turner always said you had a sense of humour, all though at this point, I'm not laughing. And what's with the whole Nate thing? If that's your subtle way of telling me that I don't have forever to get my shit together before a decision is made for me, mission accomplished." Harm was sounding sarcastic.

"Well you didn't exactly listen with that Brumby thing, we had to do something." An Image of Diane appeared in his mind's eye.

"You know, you always had this tendency of knowing when to smack me upside the head." Harm retorted.

"You gonna pick a fight with me too? Just remember who scored higher on those IQ tests we took in plebe year. Normally God doesn't let us visit, but he got sick of your self-pity and whining. Did you know that you are the only person on earth with three guardian angels and so far you've managed to piss off all three of us?" Diane's spectre lectured. "Your Dad and Luke say hi by the way."

"You always used to like lecturing me too." Harm commented absently.

"Are you even listening to me? Okay, we're not going to go all _It's a Wonderful Life_ and show you what life would be like with Meg and then with Mac so that you can make an informed decision. Life doesn't work that way for anyone else so why should you be any different? Listen, you got lucky in life. There were different points in your life at which you could have ended up marrying anyone of two possible people. God actually had plans worked out for any one of the two possibilities. Then I had to go and die on you, sorry about that." Diane laughed heartily.

"You're forgiven, do you know what I'm supposed to do?" Harm questioned.

"The suggestion has been made that you pick a wife already, damn it! You sure are taking your sweet fucking time. Your dad was supposed to give this talk but we couldn't get him to promise that he wouldn't physically beat you about the head." Diane joked. "Listen, we don't care who you pick, we just want you to stop moping and start being happy. Oh and listen to that old, bald Admiral, he's a pretty wise man." With that, Diane's spectre faded from his mind.

"Harm! Harm!" He heard Meg's voice rousing him back to consciousness.

"Unca Harm take nap." AJ climbed on to Harm's bed and lay next to him.

"Did you decide to conk out on us there, Harm?" Meg asked as she lay on the other side of Harm on the bed.

"Yeah, I guess my week at work was a little more exhausting then I gave it credit for." Harm offered a weak smile.

"Come on, the little guy wants to watch that Disney movie that Harriet brought over." Meg tapped Harm on the upper thigh before climbing out of the bed and toddling off into the living room with little AJ.

"Decisions, decisions." Harm murmured aloud into the darkness of his room.

1832 ZULU

WHITE TIGER PAINTBALL ARENA

WASHINGTON, DC

"You really shouldn't spoil her, you know. She's _my_ little sister, she's not supposed to be using my friend as an ATM." Mac protested as they walked into the large old warehouse that was now serving as a paintball arena.

"Nonsense, it's fun to spoil kids, especially when they aren't your own kids. That's why grandparents do it." Nate set the pace as they walked through the front door to the large complex. Chloe walked off in the lobby and Nate and Mac paid for everything that they would need for their little excursion today.

"I'm not sure I like the idea of Chloe getting shot with one of these things, I hear that they can really hurt." Mac voiced as the guy behind the counter handed Nate their firearms.

"She'll have a protective vest on and a face shield Mac, she'll be completely safe." Nate assured her as he handed Mac her vest and mask.

"Hey guys, those boys over there say they want to play a Red versus Blue elimination round. But they don't think you guys aren't up to the challenge." Chloe looked up at the faces of Mac and Nate who were trying not to laugh. Nate evaluated the clan of five boys, the oldest was maybe fifteen and the youngest probably twelve. Mac leaned in and whispered into Chloe's ear.

"Tell them we'll play but don't tell them that Nate and I are Marines." Mac whispered and Chloe walked cheerily back over to the boys. "What's a Red versus Blue elimination round?"

"Two teams; once you're hit, you're out, the last person standing, their team wins." Nate explained. A few seconds later, Mac and Nate walked over and flanked Chloe's sides.

"You guys are short a player." The tallest boy said. "You want one of ours? It'll even up the teams."

"No, that's fine you guys'll need all the help you can get." Chloe trash talked and one of the younger boys stuck his tongue out at her.

"Your parents must be pretty good if your old man is that confident." The tall boy returned. The kid obviously had no sense of genetics. Two dark haired people were unlikely to have a blonde child. Mac's mind turned to wonder at the supposition that the young man had made while Nate's face remained expressionless.

"Right, come on, Mom." Chloe took Mac by the hand and led her through the heavy dark steel doors into the arena.

"You coming, Dad?" Mac questioned looking back at Nate.

"Coming, dear." Nate said laboriously as he followed them into the arena. The whole layout of the place made it look like an urban warfare range. This of course made Nate's experiences in Kuwait City a great asset. As the ref was explaining the rules, Nate leaned into Mac's ear. "I'm going to find a post, you and Chloe go patrol. Just trust that my eyes are on you."

Mac nodded quickly in apprehension of the plan and then listened to the remainder of the ref's instructions. After the ref was done, he sent the teams to opposite ends of the arena but by the time Chloe and Mac had gotten to their end, they found that Nate had already disappeared. "Where'd he go?" Chloe asked Mac, her eyes searching frantically for the third member of their team.

"Chloe, Nate's a Marine Major and an expert sharpshooter, he's off finding a post. He and I came up with this plan, don't worry, if all goes to plan, this game should be over in under five minutes." Mac laughed slightly. The shrill sound of the whistle was heard and the round was started.

In a post, at least twelve feet off the floor below, Nate Ross was hunched over his paintball gun looking down into the arena below. This was actually a pretty nice set up. There were miniature building constructs and stairs. Of course the whole thing was made out of wood instead of steel so an experience shooter could hear an enemy approaching before ever needing to see him. From where he was, Nate had a pretty unobstructed view of the Red team's half of the arena. Whenever Nate saw a red vest, the grin on his face grew just that much wider. The tall boy stood out like a sore thumb.

Nate took aim and caught him right in the middle of the vest. "Red 1, you're out." The loudspeaker called and the ref escorted the tall boy off the field. Nate's eyes scanned the arena until they came across a red team member on a second level parapet about thirty feet across the way. The boy was running so Nate's skills were tested a little more sharply. Still, with Marine Corps accuracy, Nate's next shot found the young boy's side. "Red 4, you're out." The loudspeaker chimed again.

On the floor below, Chloe and Mac were doing their best imitation of a Recon patrol. Mac's time with her uncle Matt had served her well. She was able to navigate the labyrinth of wooden walls with relative ease while always keeping her eyes and ears peeled for the other team. Mac heard unsteady breathing coming from around a corner and knew that it had to be one of the other guys. Mac whipped around the corner and fired a shot hitting the boy right in the middle of the back. "Red 2, you're out." The loudspeaker called and the ref escorted another young man out of the arena. Both Mac and Chloe gave silent cheers as they realized that their team now outnumbered the other side. Mac could hear the running on the planks above her head. She motioned for Chloe to be silent. Mac slowly climbed the steps in the dimly lit arena and she peeked around the bend to see the young man setting up a position on the parapet to fire at Chloe below. Mac turned and fired a quick shot into his side. "Red 3, you're out." The loudspeaker chimed again and Mac scampered down the stairs back to Chloe.

Mac hit the floor of the arena only to have a gun barrel pressed against her back. "You're now a prisoner." The pubescent voice announced. Mac dropped her gun to the floor. "I have your team-mates prisoner so come out and surrender." The young man announce. No sooner had he finished talking, then a paintball came down and caught him on the visor, right between the eyes.

"Red 5, you're out. Winner is Blue Team." The loudspeaker announced. The action in the arena stopped so that everyone could see where Nate had been hiding. Sure enough, a few seconds later, he came sliding down a fire-pole in the middle of the floor with his gun over his shoulder.

"The only way up into that lookout is via that fire-pole. How'd you get up there?" The ref asked.

"You learn a few things in the Marines." Nate answered and gave the guy a pat on the shoulder.

1947 ZULU

HARM'S APARTMENT

NORTH OF UNION STATION

Harm awoke that morning on the couch with his arm around Meg and little AJ lying across both of their laps. After a little bit of oatmeal that morning, something that both Meg and AJ complained about, the three of them went down to a nearby park where they fed the birds, Harm tried to teach AJ how to play catch with a Nerf ball and Meg pushed the little fella on the swings.

Harm had at least five elder ladies compliment him on his beautiful family. It wasn't a presumption out of left field. AJ was becoming a strapping young man and if Meg were his mother, that would certainly explain his blonde hair. There time at the park was, in other words, an approximation of what one would expect from a typical American family with a young child on a Saturday morning.

Soon, they were walking back from the park. Meg stopped a hot dog vendor on the corner and then something caught her eye. Harm was staring back at her from the newsstand except, he was dressed in his Navy blues. Meg paid for the hot dog, then ran over to the newsstand and paid for the magazine that Harm was on the cover of. She ran back over to Harm and AJ waving the magazine wildly.

When she got back over to them she handed Harm the magazine. He read the front page. "Washington Life's 10 Sexiest DC bachelors." He read aloud and looked over at Meg. Harm flipped through the magazine until he came to the page with his profile on it. Meg took the magazine from him and read the profile aloud.

"Captain Harmon Rabb Junior. Listen up ladies because it's not everyday that a real life American hero walks amongst us. Captain Rabb is an alum of both the United States Naval Academy and Georgetown Law. In addition to being top flight litigator, this Naval Captain has two Distinguished Flying Crosses both of which were for saving the lives of fellow aviators Terry Medwick and Thomas Boone respectively. Sources tell us that the Captain is a health food fan and an avid runner. His star is on the rise after recent reassignment to the Pentagon and an appearance at the United Nations Security Council that landed him on the cover of USA Today and on the tongue of every journalist in the western world. While a member of the JAG Corps, Rabb was a top litigator and investigator often tackling some of the Navy's most challenging cases. Add all this to the way he looks in his dress whites and move over Tom Cruise!" Meg mimicked fanning herself off with the magazine.

"That column means nothing." Harm protested trying to prevent all the words from inflating his ego.

"I don't know, Harm. All the high society women read _Washington Life_, you're going to be dancing through the fantasies of quite a few of them tonight after they read this article." Meg waved the magazine in front of Harm as if to taunt him.

"Come on, Meg, get real. _Washington Life_, is just a gossip rag for the upper-crust, no one puts any stock in anything they say." Harm's protests were starting to lack conviction.

"Why shouldn't they? It's all true. You're brilliant, a health nut, courageous and sexy." Meg tried to cover her slip. The air suddenly hung heavy with tension. Harm and Meg just looked at one another, their eyes never breaking the magnetic pulsing stare.

"Annie Mac!" AJ shouted and pointed at the magazine. Harm stood over Meg's shoulder as she flipped to the next page and the picture that they found there was enough to shock them. As another layer of tension was added to the scene, Harm's phone rang.

"Rabb……you're sure?...alright, I'll be there as soon as I can." Harm closed his cell. "Meg, could you take little AJ back to my apartment, there's and emergency at work?

"Yeah, sure, Harm." Meg answered cautiously. She then watched as Harm flagged down a taxi that sped him off.

1949 ZULU

PIZZA HUT

GEORGETOWN, DC

"Hey guys, look what I found!" Chloe raced over to the table with a copy of that week's _Washington Life _magazine. "You're on the cover, Nate. With Harm." Chloe handed Mac the magazine and Mac read the title aloud.

"Washington Life's 10 sexiest DC bachelors." Mac read aloud. Chloe pulled the magazine and flipped to Nate's profile which was on the page opposite Harm's.

Chloe read the profile aloud. "Never has the State Department looked so good. Assistant Secretary of State Nathan Ross is a combination of brains and brawn that's just as deadly in an Armani suit as it is in a pair of Marines cammies. The son of former Marine Corps Commandant Jack Ross, Nathan is a graduate of not only NROTC but also Penn State and Princeton's Woodrow Wilson School of International Affairs. Nate served a tour in the Gulf as a premier Marine Corps sniper during Desert Storm earning a Silver Star for his escapades before putting his Masters degree to work for the State Department. As the ranking official on North Africa and the Middle East, Nate speaks seven languages and is the administrations most important diplomat in the War on Terror. He keeps his reserve hours up to date and sources say his passions include practical jokes, reading and archery. There's a lot of talk in the Democratic Party about him sitting at the cabinet table one day in the near future. But Nate may not be on the market for very long if the picture in the bottom right is any indication. Mr. Ross has been spotted out and about Washington with Marine Corps Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie. The photo seen here was taken at a friend's wedding last week, the two were sharing what sources claim was a dance that could boil the mercury in your grandmother's thermometer. Two Marines? Looks like the Ross family tradition of service to the Corps is going to extend to the next generation." Chloe handed Mac the magazine.

Mac examined the profile. Sure enough there was the picture of that dance. Nate's one hand running down her leg and her head lulled back against his shoulder.

"Now that's what I call damning evidence." Chloe joked and she caught stares from both Nate and Mac. "What? A picture that racy would be illegal in several Midwestern states!" Both of them hated to admit it, but after examining the picture, both Mac's eyes and Nate's were black with the a kind of passion-induced, lust-driven craze that had spurred on their actions for those four minutes on the dance floor. "Anything you two would like to tell me? Like the truth?" Chloe tapped her foot impatiently.

Nate and Mac looked up from the magazine in front of them and into each other's eyes. A diplomat and a lawyer, two professions where you made your bread and butter by talking and neither of them could string together a coherent sentence by that point. Nate just looked at the limp rose colour of the lip gloss on Mac's lips. Mac just studied his eyes like they were windows to his soul. Of course, his phone would pick that moment to ring.

"You got Nate……yeah, I'll be there in a few minutes……yes, you interrupted something important but you're talking about an emergency here……see you then." Nate closed his cell. He turned to face Mac to explain, but their gazes locked again.

"You have to go into work?" She questioned breathlessly.

"Yeah." He replied. "I'll call later to tuck you girls in." His sense of humour was slowly returning.

"See you, Nittany Lion." Mac pulled him into a hug.

"Take care of yourself, Golden Gopher." Nate chuckled slightly before slipping out of the hug. He turned to Chloe. "Take care of your sister, okay?"

"You got it." Chloe replied before Nate jogged out of the restaurant. "You two were totally about to kiss before his phone rang!" Chloe screeched.

"We were not." Mac protested weakly.

"The photo disagrees with you." Chloe pointed at the open page of the magazine. "And what was with the whole animal pet name exchange?" Chloe questioned.

"It's a Big Ten thing." Mac responded with a wise smile.


	11. All Those That Manhood Tried

_A/N: For all readers with a file-sharing program. As you'll notice with our longer stories, the chapter instalments tend to read like TV episodes. All of us here are big fans of using music in TV episodes at appropriate times. In order to provide you with the optimal experience, we're going write in stage directions for music in later chapters (these chapters are well in the future, don't worry, we're just giving you advanced notice.) There will be four song inserts, if you want to see the scene as we intended it to be seen/felt (of course if you don't, this is totally cool as well) you're going to need the following songs. We think they convey the mood appropriately. _

_Patience by Guns'n'Roses_

_Bobcaygeon by The Tragically Hip_

_Let Her Cry by Hootie and the Blowfish_

_Take it Outside by Barenaked Ladies_

_Yes, two of the four artists are Canadian; if you're offended, sue us for promoting Canadian content. We thought this was a cool idea. We hope you agree. Thank you all for the support you've given us with your reviews._

When you work for the government, cloak and dagger tends to be the order of the day. Of course, if there's only minimal reason for you to hide behind the big red _'confidential'_ stamp, you can look like JFK while acting like J. Edgar Hoover. By the time Harmon Rabb arrived at the West Wing of the White House, his staff from the Pentagon was already there with the briefings that he needed to read as they concerned the matter at hand. Sentences that would have seemed like absolute gibberish four months ago now were as natural for him to read as plain, ordinary English.

Harm's Marine escort led him through the corridors of the White House to the familiar hallway that led to the Situation Room. As Harm neared the room, Mike Bradley came walking down a perpendicular hallway. "They called me in off my honeymoon, do you believe that? This is the most clothes I've had on since the reception." Mike joked.

"You know, Mike, there are some things that I just don't need to know." Harm chuckled as he opened the door and came upon the President and the crucial members of his cabinet as well as the Joint Chiefs and the Director of the CIA.

"Mr. Rabb, Mr. Bradley nice of you to join us and……where the hell is Ross?" The President questioned, as he quit pacing at the head of the room.

"He should be here any second, Mr. President." Secretary Anderson replied.

"He should be here _now_." The President responded.

"He was the last person notified, sir, if I know Nate Ross; he dropped everything and probably ran here." The Marine Corps Commandant supplied. There was a few seconds of silence, that was immediately followed by the door opening and Nate Ross entering in a pair of khakis and a black Led Zeppelin t-shirt. He was out of breath.

"Traffic…..Pennsylvania Avenue……sprinted nine blocks…" Nate gasped out.

"Jesus, Nate, where the hell were you?" Secretary Anderson questioned.

"Georgetown." Nate replied and a cold fear gripped at Harm's heart. Of course Nate was with Mac. He remembered those days vividly. The days when Sarah MacKenzie's presence was like a wonderful drug and you wanted to indulge in it as much and as often as possible, oh yeah those were hard to forget and it was too painful to try.

"Alright, now that our other _Washington Life_ cover model is here, can we please get on with the business at hand, people?" The President lectured.

"Yes, sir. Do we know how this platoon of Marines contracted the symptoms that they're experiencing?" Harm questioned, looking at the Director of Central Intelligence.

"No, they just went out on a patrol in the desert one night and they must have been hit by something airborne because a few days after they came back, they were experiencing these symptoms. Our base hospitals in Manila and Tokyo are working vigorously around the clock with the blood work they have to find out what's going on." The Director of Central Intelligence answered.

"Did none of the three of you see this coming?" The President looked at Harm, Mike and Nate.

"The problem with biological weapons, sir is that they're not as easily tracked as their chemical or nuclear counterparts. Diseases and strains can be developed in rogue states around the world or disappear into the black market for decades before resurfacing and as long as they're stored properly, the bacteria can survive. The other problem is that it doesn't take a noticeable amount of money in order to procure one either. A few thousand dollars can get you a vial of just about any disease on the market and all it takes is one or two vials to mount an attack this size." Mike informed the President.

"It may only be five Marines but damn it! We should have seen this coming! The three of you were put together to prevent this kind of thing from happening!" The President was now engulfed in a fury that could match an AJ Chegwidden tirade. "It's five Marines, so at least it was contained, you three can be thankful for that. Now what's this other thing?"

"Provo advisors working with Al Qaeda? To be honest, sir, it makes little ideological sense. The Provos are Irish, Catholic and in many cases, Marxist, it makes very little sense for them to work with Islamic fundamentalists. On a logistical level, though, it makes perfect sense." Nate started to explain. "The Irish invented modern urban terrorism and perfected the practice of it against well-trained forces in urban areas. If you want to do something right, you enlist the help of the guys who did it right first, sort of like the Corps did when we got Canadian help setting up the Sniper Corps."

"Is there anything that we can do about this, legally?" The President turned his questioning to Harm.

"Well, the Provos would count as citizens of the UK, being from Northern Ireland. Legally, the British would be entitled to know any operations carried out by US Forces against them. If they consented, then legally we would be in the clear to do with them what we're doing with the other Al Qaeda prisoners." Harm supplied.

"But that move wouldn't be particularly popular with those Americans who have sympathies with the IRA or Sinn Fein. I'd just like to find a way of getting the Irish the hell out of there without pissing anyone off around here." The President returned to his pacing.

"I have a solution, sir, but it's going to have to wait until tomorrow night and I'm going to need Captain Rabb's help." Nate stepped forward and Harm turned into a postural imitation of the stones on Easter Island.

"Alright, all's going as well as can be expected considering the circumstances. Mr. Ross, I want to be informed of the outcome of this little plan of yours as soon as something happens. Rabb, you'll have those toxicology reports from Tokyo and Manila on your desk Monday morning. I'd like to ask Mr. Rabb to hang back for a few minutes, the rest of you are dismissed." The President let everyone go with a flippant wave.

After a few minutes, the room was empty and Harm was standing there with the President. "Mr. Rabb, come take a walk with me on the White House lawn." The President motioned for Harm as he walked out of the room.

The two men walked silently through the White House out to the lawn that was now bathed in artificial light as night had fallen on Washington. "You're a good officer, Captain; I had the chance to look over your service record when we came up with this idea. I knew you were the right candidate." The President started talking.

"Thank you, sir." Harm replied as the two men walked over the well-groomed lawn. After a few minutes, one of the President's aides came running over with two cans, he promptly handed them to the President before dashing back up to the house.

"You know what this is, Captain?" The President asked, handing Harm a can.

"The can says 'Alexander Keith's India Pale Ale', sir." Harm replied.

"You are a swift boy." The President chuckled lightly. "I was in the Army, in Korea. One night, I got lost from my platoon a few miles south of the thirty-eighth parallel and I stumbled upon a group of the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry. They took me in for the night and they gave me a can of this stuff and I haven't been able to drink anything else ever since." The President chortled lightly. "Have a drink with your President?"

"I'd be honoured, sir." Harm replied and the two men cracked open their beer can.

"Captain, I may be the Commander in Chief but so help me God, if you call me 'sir', I'll pop you. My friends call me 'Andy'." The President watched as Harm looked perplexed.

"I'll try." Harm replied with a weak smile.

"Now, as to the reason I called you out here. What seems to be troubling you, Mr. Rabb? You tensed right up every time Nathan Ross spoke tonight. Do you have some kind of problem with him?" The President inquired as he took another sip of his beer and the two men sat on the grass.

"Nate and I just have a difference of opinion over a matter that is currently affecting both of us personally." Harm replied almost rhythmically.

"Mr. Rabb, I'm old not stupid. That was a very cute way of telling me that you and Mr. Ross are bickering over a woman. Now, I was led to believe that you might have already had a girlfriend and Nathan Ross hardly seems the kind of man to steal a woman or even try to." The President's wisdom was showing its reaches.

"It's a little more complicated then that." Harm answered as he took a long drink from the can.

"Isn't it always? Listen, my boy, friends like Nathan Ross are hard to come by in this world. In a few years, the Democrats are grooming him so that he'll take a run at my job. Just like you're being groomed to sit in AJ Chegwidden's chair, it would be wise for both of you to resolve your issues." The President advised as he crushed the empty beer can in his hand.

"Are you ordering us to get along, sir?" Harm inquired, looking over at the wise older man.

"Consider it advice from an old man who let life teach him lessons." The President chortled as he raised himself up off the ground. "Now, if I may inquire, would this woman be the one in the picture with Mr. Ross that appeared in this week's _Washington Life_ magazine?"

"Yes, sir. Did you read the magazine, sir?" Harm asked with a furrowed brow.

"My wife writes the 'Sugar and Spice' cooking column. She decided that I needed to see the men that my wife would like to set up with our youngest daughter when she gets done her semester at Columbia in a few weeks." The President sounded more than slightly annoyed. "The picture was rather racy, I'll grant, there was no mistaking the role-playing that was going on there."

"If you don't mind, sir. I'd rather not think about it." Harm replied, giving his head a shake.

"Of course, that was rather careless of me, wasn't it? My apologies. I don't know what to tell you, my boy. Sometimes romance just happens and sometimes it doesn't. I remember when I met my wife, I was a young aide on Eisenhower's staff and she was a junior photographer for the New York Times. I used to go to press conferences just to get the chance to talk to her. It was months before I asked her out on a date. She turned me down the first seventeen times." The two men shared a good laugh at this. "The last time I asked her, I pulled out all the stops; did every romantic cliché in the book and you know what she told me?"

"What?" Harm was eager to here the end of the story.

"I just wanted you to try harder the first seventeen times." The President concluded. "My point is, that if you're sure it's worth it, and I mean really sure, don't half-ass it. Go all the way, leave no doubt. Whittier said 'of all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these: it might have been.' Keep that in mind, my boy." The President gave Harm a pat on the back before strolling back up the knoll toward the White House.

"Thank you, sir!" Harm called before heading back out on to Pennsylvania Avenue to hail a taxi.

0119 ZULU

MAC'S APARTMENT

GEORGETOWN, DC

Mac and Chloe had gone back to the apartment after Nate left them at Pizza Hut. Actually, they rented a few movies, and then they went back to the apartment. "Does he get called away like that a lot?" Chloe asked as they got ready to watch the second movie of the night.

"His job's very important to him. For the longest time, I think it was the only thing he had in his life." Mac brought a large bowl of popcorn into the living room.

"Now he has you, right?" Chloe goaded with a delightful smile.

"Chloe, it's hard to explain." Mac admonished as she sat on the couch.

"You used to say the same thing about Harm." Chloe pointed out. "Come on, Mac, talk to me like a girlfriend, you know, dish."

"Dish? Young lady, you're too young for me to 'dish' with you." Mac responded.

"Mac, I'm almost fourteen and I've had sex-ed, there's nothing you could possibly tell me that would shock me more then that picture today already did." Chloe rebutted.

"Chloe, it's not like you think. That was just a dance." Mac protested but images of that evening, sensations of how womanly she felt in his arms tore at the very core of her soul.

"You never looked that way when Mic held you. Face it Mac, that picture had romance novel cover or James Bond movie poster written all over it. He's a nice guy too; think he'd teach me how to shoot?" Chloe perked up on the couch. Mac hesitated for a second when Chloe brought up the shooting thing.

"I don't think your dad would be too happy to hear that you were learning how to shoot long range at only thirteen. Besides, he's already got a student, I think." It was a sly answer. She was technically his student. The Saturdays that they spent out at Quantico were interesting experiences that wreaked hell with her self control.

Nate in cammies, complete silence, him so near that she could feel him breathe and him coaching her to 'keep her breathing steady', 'listen to her heart' and 'fire between the heartbeats.' He always made it look so easy. Damn that bilge-switch of his. He would have his hands firmly on her hips to show her how to position herself for a shot but yet he was able to act as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

"You're thinking about him again." Chloe taunted.

"I am not!" Mac replied sounding offended.

"Yes you were, your eyes were doing that thing were they go all dark and stuff. You know, just like the actresses in the movies do before they tear the hero's shirt off." Chloe giggled and Mac was taken aback.

"Chloe Madison! Since when do you talk like that?" Mac questioned incredulously.

"Come on, Mac. Even the guys we played paintball with picked up on these little vibes between you two. I mean they thought you two were married for gosh sakes." Chloe added with raised eyebrows. "So, tell me the truth. Are you falling for him?"

"No!" Mac protested vehemently but that little nagging voice in her conscience crept into her mind. "I don't know, I don't think so." She practically whispered.

"So, you might be falling for him?" Chloe questioned timidly.

"I don't know, Chloe. I feel so horrible for it, I really do. For the longest time, when he'd make me laugh, I felt like I was cheating on Harm. But I know I've already fallen for Nate's sense of humour. I don't know if I'm falling for him or just falling for parts of him. Oh God, does that make me a bad person?" Mac asked, making a futile effort to blink away tears.

"No, I don't think so. I think you just want your fairy-tale ending. Every little girl does. You thought you had it once and you kissed your prince three times, hoping that he'd take you off to his castle. It just never happened. Now, maybe you've got another shot." Chloe offered and Mac sniffled lightly.

"You know, when I was a little girl. I never thought about it. I couldn't it was just too painful to think of Princes being out there because it meant that I didn't have to go through what I did in my life. I never thought I'd meet anybody like Harm and when I did, I went for it and it just never panned out but he helped show me that even the people who had it good growing up didn't always have it easy. Nate's showing me that too, now."

"They're both good guys, I just don't want to see you get hurt any more, Mac. And I worry that if you keep opening yourself up to Harm, that's going to keep happening." Chloe admitted as she cuddled against Mac's shoulder. "Be fair to them, Mac. I mean, it kind of sucked what happened with Mic but he was really manipulative so it's hard for me to feel bad for the guy. Neither Harm nor Nate are like that. Just be fair."

"I promise I will, Chloe." Mac lightly kissed Chloe's hair. In Mac's mind, it was hard to believe. The little girl who used to hide upstairs when her father came home drunk now had a life that had come full circle. On the one hand there was a relationship that she had built up in her mind for years. One where she had imagined children. It was also one where she had visions of Harm going down in a Tomcat, something which scared the life out of her.

On the other hand there was Prince number two. Mr. distinguished career. Mac didn't like to admit it but she had memorized pieces of Nate's profile from the magazine. What they were saying about his intelligence, about his skills, about his prospects. The magazine writers had even hinted at a future for the two of them. Children that would be seventh generation Ross Marines. Nate being the Secretary of State, which meant a well-paying, non-life threatening job. A secure and stable life. Something that she had almost made the mistake of settling for once before. Would she really be settling this time?

What made her think Nate even wanted her anyway? It wasn't like there was a string of events where he openly pursued her. Hell, she practically had to drag him out to meet his own parents, he begged her to go back home. The only thing that could even moderately be described as a romantic gesture were the few times a week that he brought her lunch at work……and that dance. In the end, that's what this all came down to. A four minute taste of passion, of romance and of a raw primal heat, the sampling of which gave her an insatiable hunger for more. To feel empowered in her sexuality but still feel like an object of lust, it all came together in an addicting contrast.

"You were thinking about him again." Chloe broke Mac's reverie. Before Mac could retort, a saving knock came at the door. Mac broke away to go answer the door. She was going to check the peephole but when the next knock came in the form of 'shave and a haircut' she knew who it was and she leaned back against the door and closed her eyes. "Let him in, you look fine." Chloe joked openly and Mac opened her eyes.

"Probably more then fine, but you know how Mac is!" Nate shouted through the door and Mac bit her lip. Even after the tension this afternoon, he could still joke. Why not? He told her that sometimes he just needed to find the humour in everything in order to make life work. She turned and opened the door. "About time, I was thinking of laying down a sleeping bag outside the door and camping out until morning. I didn't think your neighbours would appreciate that too much."

"Can he stay, Mac? We were going to have a slumber party tonight anyway. I bet he makes awesome s'mores!" Chloe piped up.

"It's up to him." Mac choked out. The thought of Nate in pyjamas, of any sort was not something she was sure she was ready for.

"I need to know what movie you guys are watching first." Nate replied, trying to maintain a stoic expression.

"Grease!" Chloe informed him.

"I'll stay, just let me go and get my sea-bag from the car." Nate turned back out of the doorway. The door closed behind him and Mac turned to face Chloe.

"Chloe, you're not supposed to use things I tell you against me." Mac lectured.

"Come on, Mac, that's my MO. Remember the first time I came to JAG?" Chloe questioned with an innocent look.

"All too well. But you just had to invite temptation to stay the night?" Mac glared.

"Admit it; you wanted it, you were just too afraid to ask." Chloe taunted before scampering off to the living room.

About two hours later, and few random times where everyone in the room broke out into song during the movie, the three of them were just sitting on the couch. "I'm willing to bet that you were just like Danny in high school." Mac taunted, turning her head to look Nate in the eye.

"Oh, and why's that?" He questioned with an obvious curiosity.

"Do you want me to go get the _Washington Life_ profile? You've probably been trouble for women since you were fifteen." Mac playfully pushed his shoulder.

"Yeah, well I'm willing to bet you were all Sandy on the inside and all Rizzo on the outside." Nate joked right back. "You know, the perfect tease." Mac was shocked, that almost sounded vaguely like a come on. Chloe yawned openly. "Come on, you, time for bed." Nate motioned turned to face Chloe.

"Awww, Nate, do I have to?" Chloe whined.

"When you yawned loud enough to wake the dead, that's normally a sign." Nate got up and slung Chloe over his shoulder. "The time has come, the walrus said. To talk of many things."

"Of shoes and ships and ceiling wax; of cabbages and Kings." Chloe finished as Nate dropped her in the doorway of Mac's guest room. "Night, Nate."

"Night, Chlo." Nate mussed her hair before turning back to the living room. The combat vet was sweating. After what happened at Pizza Hut earlier today, he wasn't sure what was going to happen the first time that he and Mac had to be alone after that. He clenched his fists tightly to force down the nervousness in the pit of his stomach before walking out into the room. "Long day." He yawned a little.

"Of course you can't talk about it." Mac commented as if in passing.

"Trust me, I would if I could, it really sucks keeping secrets from you." Nate admitted as he threw himself down on the couch next to her. For a few minutes they just sat there in silence, both of them stealing glances at the other.

"Are you thinking about it too?" Mac asked after a few minutes.

"Kind of hard not to." Nate admitted, reaching for the remote.

"Are we going to talk about it?" Mac asked, looking up into Nate's eyes.

"Do you want to?" He asked as he felt her cuddle into his chest. Mac paused for a moment. Was he really leaving all this up to her?

"I'm not sure." She admitted, suddenly overcome by a hated feeling of weakness. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"What I want, Sarah, is for you to be true to yourself. No matter what that decision is." Nate admitted with a reverent tone. Mac reached up and pulled his arm protectively around her shoulders.

"Thank you." She whispered into his chest as the two of them sat there watching the evening news.

2314 ZULU

DOYLE'S THIRD STREET PUB

BALTIMORE, MARYLAND

Nate and Harm entered the pub and immediately they stood out. Red hair, or white hair that used to be red and green eyes seemed to be the order o'the day in this place. For two, tall dark-haired men, dressed in a manner not befitting the working class aura of the place, they were certainly conspicuous.

"Patrick O'Malley here?" Harm asked the bartender who pointed him over to an elderly gent sitting in the corner of the bar, having a stout with a few guys and listening intently to a fiddle player. The two of them walked over toward where O'Malley was sitting when they were stopped by two big behemoths with thick Tipperary accents.

"And just where do you two think you're going?" The one asked.

"To talk with O'Malley. Do you have a problem with that, boyo?" Nate responded, inflating his chest so he appeared more intimidating. The one man, went to swing at Nate who caught his arm and in a flash wrenched it up behind his back, causing the big Irishman to fall to the floor. The second one was about to step in when Harm got between him and Nate.

"What's all this commotion hereabouts?" O'Malley came walking over. He noticed that Nate had one of his thugs on his knees with a shoulder that was millimetres away from dislocation. "Come on, boys, play nicely now."

"Call off your goons, first." Harm responded, setting his resolve firm. O'Malley tapped both his goons on the shoulder.

"Alright boys, toddle off now." He ordered. The two of them buggered off to the other side of the bar and O'Malley looked from Harm to Nate. "Now what can I be doing for you boys?"

"Get your men out of Afghanistan, Paddy." Harm leapt in. At his words, all action in the pub went silent.

"I think we best be stepping outside now, wouldn't want anyone to misunderstand something and these walls do have ears you know." O'Malley walked with Harm and Nate out of the pub. Once they had stepped out into an alley behind the bar, O'Malley turned to face them. "Now just where do you two gobshites get off telling me what to do?"

"Nathan Ross Assistant Secretary of State, this is Captain Harmon Rabb, United States Navy." Nate made the introductions. "You're in our country now Paddy, it doesn't mean a damn thing around here whether you lead Sinn Fein or not."

"What power do you think you really have Mr. Ross, Mr. Rabb? Or are you forgetting that half of your country is sympathetic to my cause." O'Malley fired back with snarling tone.

"That's where you're wrong Mr. O'Malley, the American people have a very intense hatred to terrorism of any kind." Harm retorted, his ire building quickly.

"And the Irish of Boston and New York, are they so opposed to my brand of terrorism? Do you think that their sympathies toward Ireland can be turned so quickly?" O'Malley charged head on.

"What you seem to be forgetting, is that the Irish of New York had to watch planes dive into the World Trade Center!" Harm's voice rose to a dangerous and certainly intimidating level.

"It weren't my boys flying them." O'Malley came back.

"That doesn't matter! Because the second that I get my intelligence brief to the American people and tell them what you and your boys are up to in Afghanistan, watch the fundraising efforts of Sinn Fein in America plummet. I'll drown your political cause in the Potomac before you can breathe." Nate gritted his teeth and got right in O'Malley's face.

"And what makes you think that my friends in America would let you get away with that Mr. Ross?" O'Malley replied smugly.

"Are you threatening me, Mr. O'Malley? Because I think it's only fair to remind you that I'm among the best damn sharpshooters in the United States. So, if your boys decide to take their shot they better be sure that they don't miss because if they do. I'm coming after them for revenge and then, I'm coming after you for fun. That's not a threat, that's a Marine's word." Nate jabbed his index finger into O'Malley's sternum.

"It appears we have to agree to disagree, lads. You're welcomed to come in and join me and the boys for a stout. But I'd suggest you be on your way." O'Malley turned back into the bar.

"You sure it was wise to threaten him like that?" Harm asked as they walked back out to the car. "We didn't exactly accomplish what we set out to do either, those Provos are still on the ground in Afghanistan."

"I'm quite honestly sick of dealing with scum like him. I should have just shot him, I shouldn't have threatened." Nate remarked as the car drove down the street back toward Washington.

"You just shoot somebody and I'm not defending you at your court-martial." Harm tried to lighten the mood. He realized after a few seconds that Nate wasn't laughing. "What are we going to do about this, Nate? You're a diplomat, there has to be something in that playbook of yours."

"Maybe somewhere in the index." Nate stated as they pulled on to the interstate.


	12. Who See With Blinding Sight

_Guest Starring: Marcia Cross as Reverend Beverly Ross_

"I never actually felt the need to see that movie, but it was actually pretty good. Considering that it came out in December, I can't believe that they were still playing it." Mac was smiling widely as she and Nate came walking out of the movie theatre.

"Yeah, well the books were better. _The Two Towers_ was always my favourite book. Aragorn is forced to choose between Arwen and Eowyn. I always thought he made the wrong choice. Eowyn was over the moon for him, she was a strong woman who was desperately trying to make her way in a male dominated culture, I mean, God, she was hot!" Nate chuckled happily.

"Strong women are hot? You realize that you may be one of the few men in the world who actually is willing to admit that out loud?" Mac chuckled. If she was being honest with herself, there was nothing more attractive that he could have possibly said.

"Come on, Mac. I grew up with the pre-eminent female psychologist in Virginia; I had it engrained into me at an early age that strong women were ideal. When all of my friends were learning Greek mythology with me, they were always crazy about Aphrodite but I was always more intrigued by Athena." Nate's smile shrank a little. The two of them walked out of the lobby into the street where a crowd was gathered. Mac was wearing Nate's old letterman's jacket over her shoulders.

"Gun!" A male voice shouted. Two shots rang out and Mac felt herself on the ground with Nate covering her.

"Alright, Nate, you can get off, now." Mac shook him. She rolled him off her only to see that he had been shot twice in the back. He had taken one to the shoulder-blade but the other lower and to the left of his spine. He was bleeding rather heavily. "Someone call an Ambulance!" Mac ordered. Someone in the theatre told her that an ambulance had already been called and was on its way.

Time stretched into a length inconceivable. Mac was kneeling on the pavement, holding Nate up and keeping her hand firmly pressed against the more serious wound in his abdomen in order to keep pressure applied. After a few minutes passed, the ambulance arrived and loaded Nate inside, Mac insisting that she had to ride with him.

0349 ZULU

HARM'S APARTMENT

NORTH OF UNION STATION

Harm and Meg had settled down to a nice dinner. Sergei had so impressed General Ross during his interview that the General insisted on writing the recommendation to Annapolis. Even more impressed then General Jack Ross was Nate's younger sister Anna who was impressed enough with Sergei enough to offer to help him work on his English proficiency on Friday nights, something that she as an English teacher was qualified to do. So, Harm was having Meg over yet again.

They were just finishing up the movie and about to watch Letterman when the phone rang. "I'll get it." Harm leapt off the couch for the phone. He grabbed it off the island. "Rabb."

"Harm, it's Mac." Mac's voice was timid and shaky.

"Mac? What's wrong?" Harm asked, sensing the rampant emotions in her voice.

"I'm at the Bethesda. Harm, Nate's been shot. I don't know how serious it is, no one's telling me anything because I'm not his emergency contact." Mac explained, fighting tears. "Harm, he got shot trying to cover me."

"Mac, this isn't your fault." Harm started to explain.

"Harm, could you, could you just please come down here. Harm, I feel so alone." Mac was almost whimpering.

"Yeah, sure I'll be there soon." Harm replied, he then cut the connection and strode over toward his door.

"Harm, what's going on? What happened?" Meg questioned from the couch.

"Mac's down at Bethesda, her……friend, was shot, she's not feeling too hot." Harm slipped on his shoes and grabbed his coat.

"Well, do you want me to come with you?" Meg offered, not quite understanding why he help probably wouldn't be particularly appreciated.

"No, it's okay, it's probably best not to create too big a crowd." Harm replied weakly. Harm covered, in reality, he knew that Meg being there would let Mac know that he had been with Meg when she called and that would likely only lead to another fight. "Feel free to stick around." He called as he rushed out of the apartment leaving a stunned Meg Austin in his wake.

0436 ZULU

BETHESDA NAVAL MEDICAL CENTRE

BETHESDA, MARYLAND

Harm came bounding through the glass doors at Bethesda. He ran to the ICU waiting room only to find Mac pacing the floor and gnawing on her nails. He walked up to her slowly. "Hey Mac." The greeting was hesitant. More like one that you extended to an estranged family member then a close friend.

"Hey Harm, thanks for coming." Mac offered weakly.

"What happened?" Harm asked as the two of them took a seat in the waiting room.

"We went to see a movie. Lord of the Rings, he couldn't believe that I hadn't seen it. We walked out into the street after the movie and someone shouted 'Gun!' Next thing I knew, I was on the sidewalk and Nate was draped over me. Eventually, I shook him off and I saw the two bullets in his back. His breathing was shallow. Eventually the ambulance got there. He went into cardiac arrest in the ambulance but they brought him back. God, Harm, you were right, any man who's ever gotten close to me is either dead or wishes he was." Mac sniffled loudly and continued sobbing. "He's such a good guy, Harm. He just got too close and now he could die because of it!"

"Mac you have to know that I didn't mean to say that, it was stupid and immature and irrational and practically everything I could ever regret. Please tell me you know that." Harm pleaded.

"Harm, if you didn't mean it, even the tiniest bit. Why did you say it?" Mac gently tried to dry her eyes. Harm paused for a second. She didn't know what she was asking of him. She couldn't know. Could he honestly tell her that he was just trying to throw Sturgis off his scent? Trying to not let his oldest friend know that he was attracted to his partner, could he tell her that?

He was hesitating. That was all Mac saw. A man who was hesitating, that was it. It wasn't even a romance related question, it was merely about how he saw her and he was still hesitating. Had they become so far estranged that he couldn't even be honest with her on something as simple as this? "Harm, forget that question for a second. Let me ask you, did you ever read Lord of the Rings?"

"Yeah, when I was a teenager." Harm was slightly confused by the question.

"Okay, now, you know the King guy?" Mac asked in her own timid way.

"Aragorn?" Harm inquired.

"Yeah, okay which woman did you think he should have ended up with?" Mac was referencing her last conversation with Nate.

"The woman he did end up with; the Elf. She gave up her immortality for him." Harm answered. "Why are we talking about this?"

"Just reminded me of something that Nate and I were talking about." Mac replied. Harm reached out to take her hands but Mac recoiled. Harm was just about to ask what Nate had said when they were interrupted. A kindly older nurse walked over and put her hand on Mac's shoulder.

"Mrs. Ross, dear, Lieutenant Commander Adler has news for you." The nurse responded and Mac looked up at the old woman in order to avoid the questions in Harm's eyes.

"Thank you, nurse." Mac smiled at the elder woman before she walked away.

"Mrs. Ross?" Harm questioned, trying to keep the judgemental sarcasm out of his voice.

"No one was telling me anything, Harm. The only way I could get them to talk was telling them that I was Nate's wife, don't read anything into it." Mac got up and walked over toward the corridor where the hallway led to the OR.

"The last time you said that, Mac, your picture ended up in _Washington Life_ and now half of DC thinks you're dating Nate." Harm retorted, the two paused and stared each other down. "Are you?" Harm posed the open air question.

"No, but why do you care anyway?" Mac shot venomously. "Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a good man whose health that I should probably check up on. Especially since he probably saved my life tonight." Mac walked back down the corridor toward where Lieutenant Commander Adler was coming out from surgery.

"Mrs. Ross?" The Lieutenant Commander asked. Mac nodded mutely. In the last ten minutes she had lied about her relationship with Nate every time she responded to that question with and yet there was something life-affirming about it. "Your husband has sustained some rather extensive injuries. The bullet that went through his shoulder-blade, entered at such an angle that was mere millimetres from his myocardium. The second bullet hit one of his kidneys. Now, the stress and shock of these injuries, as well as the position of the first bullet was likely enough to cause the cardiac arrest that occurred in the ambulance. He tore his Anterior Cruciate Ligament in the fall to the pavement. Of course this injury is relatively minor in relation to the other two."

"Thank you, Commander." Mac nodded.

"Sarah!" Mac heard the voice of Nate's sister Beverly calling from the outside corridor. Mac turned to see most of Nate's family standing in the corridor. Mac motioned for them to come over and join her, which they did with minimal prompting.

"As I was saying. The ACL injury may not be as imminently serious as the bullet wounds but it will likely require more intensive recuperation in the long term." The doctor warned. "Your husband is a very lucky man; a lesser man might have succumbed to his injuries, Mrs. Ross. We're moving him into a private room; he's stable so that's not an issue. A nurse will come and fetch you when his room is ready, Mrs. Ross." Mac knew that the doctor's repetition of the words 'Mrs. Ross' were intended only as SOP to remind a fraught wife of the fact that her husband was still with her. For Mac, all it did was remind her of the fact that a good man had almost died protecting her life. The doctor turned away from the family and walked away back down the hallway.

"Mrs. Ross? Sarah, dear, did you and Nathan?" Eileen Ross seemed too elated to finish her question.

"Another Marine, my boy has taste." General Jack Ross added.

"Mom, Dad, in your blind want to see Nate happy, you've conveniently forgotten the fact that the would-be bride is not wearing either an engagement ring or a wedding ring." Beverly announced.

"I was going nuts trying to get information about Nate's condition and no one would tell me anything because I wasn't Nate's emergency contact. So, I told them that we were newlyweds and with Nate's schedule, he hadn't gotten around to changing that yet." Mac explained.

"Resourceful girl. Of course, if you hadn't had time to do something as basic as that, then it would be easily believable that you hadn't had time to update your marital status with the Department of the Navy, so any checking of the database would have turned up nothing." Eileen Ross concluded. "Sarah, dear, I do think I'll sleep better knowing that someone like you is looking out for my Nathan." Harm picked that moment to walk over.

"This is Harmon Rabb, he's a friend of mine, and he works with Nate." Mac introduced Harm to the Ross family It wasn't lost on Harm that she had introduced him as her friend. Over most of the years together, they had pushed the definition of friendship in a lot of ways, but rarely communicating and then calling each other friends, was a new border push.

"Rabb?" The General questioned aloud. "Ah yes, I wrote your brother that recommendation to Annapolis. Fine young man, very gung-ho about continuing the military service that he started in Russia. If the resume that my son forwarded to me is any indication, he'll be a hell of an asset to the Marine Corps."

Harm winced internally. The slight ill will that Harm had felt toward Nate moments earlier dissipated when Harm was forced to deal with the fact that Nate had gone above and beyond to get Sergei into the country. God, there was something about this situation that made the words 'shades of grey' fall like a wilted comparison. He never knew what it was to feel gratitude and hatred at the same time. The nurse approached the waiting group of people.

"Mr. Ross is in room 108, everything is set up and he can see visitors now." The nurse informed them before heading back toward her admitting station. The group of five headed down the hallways of Bethesda looking for room 108. When they came upon the room, they saw Nate. He was sitting up in the bed, doctor's orders being that he not lie down on the bullet wounds just yet. His eyes were wide open and he was looking at the group that had gathered in the doorway. His eyes shot right to Harm and Mac.

"If I knew that all I had to do was get shot to have you two talk to each other, I would've asked Mike to shoot me weeks ago." Nate quipped with his typical self-deprecating tone.

"You're not going to get all cynical on us now that you've been shot are you?" Harm asked.

"No, I was cynical long before the bullet." Nate chuckled. "Thanks for coming, Harm."

"I can't stay. I have to get home before Sergei gets worried, I ran off without leaving a note and the last thing I want is my naïve Russian brother wandering the streets of DC looking for me." Harm joked, in reality; he just didn't feel comfortable being with Nate's family in what was really a family kind of situation.

"See you at work Monday!" Nate called after Harm as Harm walked down the hallway. He had to chuckle, there was no way Nate was going to be into work for a while, much less Monday. Back in the room, Mac walked over to Nate's bedside and softly took his hand in hers. "Funny, I remember being single when I lost consciousness, apparently, at least according to my nurse, I woke up married."

Mac blushed and moved her eyes to hide from Nate's eyes. "I was a little worried and no one was telling me anything." Mac admitted. "It was the only way I could get any information."

"Nathan, be nice to the girl. You've had her pacing the halls for hours waiting to see if you were alright." Eileen Ross smacked her son's shoulder.

"Yeah mom, it's my fault I got shot. Forget the guy with the gun." Nate joked and even Mac had to chuckle a little. She stopped to wipe her eyes.

"You took a bullet for a good woman, son. I may not like the fact that you got shot, but I'm damn proud of you for taking a bullet for Sarah, here." Jack Ross motioned toward the woman sitting at his son's bedside. "Taking two was damn brave." Mac sniffled loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room.

"You could have died trying to save me." Mac's voice was weak.

"Nah, you're being melodramatic." Nate assured her.

"Don't give me that condescending tone, Nate. You flat-lined in the ambulance!" Mac protested as he grip tightened on his hand.

"Yeah, but I didn't die. Well, at least not permanently, I'm still here. I still don't understand why the admitting staff wouldn't give you any information. I mean, the paramedics were good enough to let you ride along in the ambulance." Nate was notably confused.

"Since I'm not your emergency contact, they said the only way for them to release information would be if I was an immediate family member so I kind of fibbed." Mac was smiling almost guiltily. Nate's eyes searched for a second then went really wide.

"Would they have notified my emergency contact by now?" Nate questioned.

"Yeah, hospitals are normally pretty good about that sort of thing." Mac replied, now slightly confused herself. Nate was about to know the discomfort that Mac felt every time that he and Harm were in a room together with her. Sure enough, as if on cue, Peach came storming through the door.

"Nate, I got a call from the hospital administration saying that you'd been shot. I didn't realize that I was still your emergency contact. Although you never were one for paying attention to those things unless you had to." Peach was ranting. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the position Mac was in.

"Peach you know my mom, dad, my sister Bev and this is…" Peach cut him off.

"Sarah MacKenzie, or are you forgetting that I read _Washington Life_, Nate?" Peach turned to face him; her expression was almost like that of someone who had been deeply betrayed. And Mac thought that she and Harm had issues. Peach was harbouring some serious feelings for the man that she had worked side by side with for nine years.

"You must be the infamous 'Peach', I've heard about you." Mac commented protectively as she moved her hand to Nate's cheek. A gesture that did not go unnoticed by anyone in the room. The sidelong glances were inescapable.

"All good things I hope." Peach remarked snidely. "Now, what happened that you went and got yourself shot?"

"There was a shooting outside the movie theatre we were at. Nate got shot protecting me." Mac replied, she loved being catty once in a while. It was almost like a stress reliever.

"Oh." Peach replied. In that instant, Mac regretted her moment of protective cattiness. "Well are you okay now?" Peach turned her attention

"Couple of bullet wounds and a torn ACL, I got hurt worse growing up with Preston and Stephen." Nate laughed.

"You did not!" Eileen protested.

"What about that time Steve shot me in the ass with the arrow? Or the time Preston landed on my tibia and shattered it? The fact that I was still fit for the Marines by the time I got out of Princeton is a testament to my endurance." Nate joshed.

"Well, uh, I guess that I'd better be going." Peach backed awkwardly out of the room.

"Well, that was……different." Nate laughed sarcastically.

"Son, you and I need to have a talk." Jack Ross gave his son a wise, knowing look.

"No arguments here, dad." Nate adjusted himself in the bed. Stephen Ross entered the room at that exact moment.

"I just got the call, my precinct picked this one up. I've got two of my best detectives on it but we already know what happened pretty much." Steve threw himself down into the chair.

"What happened, son?" Jack Ross questioned.

"It was a gang shooting. Two Bloods in a car saw a few Cripps coming out of the theatre where you two were. The crossfire was exchanged and it looked like you two got caught in it. Heard you almost took the dirt nap big brother." Steve chuckled slightly. "Don't worry about it, my guys are sweeping the scene. In a few minutes, the Crime Scene team and my detectives will have a pretty good idea of what went down. You two will of course have to give statements as to what happened; depositions and the like but as you know, Colonel, it's all SOP."

"Yeah, yeah, thanks Steve." Mac nodded and Steve went out into the hall to talk with the doctors and get write ups to enter into evidence later on.

"Would you guys mind? I don't think there's ever been a better time for dad and I to have that talk then right now." Nate inquired of everyone in the room. His mom, Bev and Mac all exited the room leaving just Nate and his dad. "So……"

"Yeah. Listen son, I realize that this might sound a little trite but I want to apologize for the last decade. I wrongfully blamed you for Preston's accident and I've been taking it out on you ever since." Jack Ross started.

"It's okay, Dad. We all knew Preston was the favourite. Losing him wasn't easy for any of us." Nate reassured his father.

"Son, Preston was never the favourite. You were. Preston needed direction. You weren't the oldest, so you couldn't provide it but I needed you to help give him direction in someway. I figured if he was trying to beat you he could at least make something of himself. Stephen always looked up to you and of course I never had to worry about you, Nathan. You were always the smartest kid I ever knew. You have to get it from your mother, that's the only explanation. I just wanted you to be the leader I always knew you could be. I figured the Corps was the ideal atmosphere for that. But now, now when I hear people tell me that you're going to be President some day, I know that you're fulfilling that part of your destiny that I always saw in you and you didn't even need the Corps to do it." Jack Ross paced the floor nervously.

"Thanks, Dad." Nate was awestruck.

"Now that we've got that settled. I feel the need to stick my nose in where it doesn't belong. Son, what are you doing here? You've got two fish dangling from the hook and you can't have both of them. It's not fair to Peach and it's not fair to Sarah. You did take a bullet for Sarah though, which tells me that you must be closer to clarity." The General explained.

"Mac's not on my hook, Dad. She's on the hook of a man that I respect very much. I'd take a bullet for him and what I did tonight was pretty much the same thing. Mac and I lean on each other, but I wouldn't say that we love each other." Nate responded.

"You're a good Marine." Jack Ross was solemn.

"I always tried to be." Nate added.

Out in the hallway, Bev and Mac were sitting in chairs in the corridor looking out a nearby window. "You're not in love with my brother." Bev stated plainly.

"What makes you say that?" Mac replied, taking a sip of hospital coffee.

"Sarah, I'm a Presbyterian Minister, I marry couples who look at each other lovingly, you don't look at Nathan that way. You look at Nathan like the two of you are very close but you're not in love." Bev explained.

"Does he……does he look at me that way?" Mac asked tentatively, suddenly feeling like a suspect.

"If anyone can see through that damn Marine stoicism of his, I just wish they'd tell me how they do it." Bev chuckled. "I do know that Nathan cares for you very much, although, I suppose what he did tonight is proof enough of that. I just don't understand how you and Nathan found yourselves getting so close so quickly. Don't take this the wrong way but until you showed up at the cottage none of us had ever heard of you."

"Nate and I ran into each other at a time when both our lives were in a state of flux and we decided that it was easier to ride the waves together then try and conquer them separately. Now I think we both know that we're playing with fire." Mac admitted.

"I'd say that almost goes without saying. Don't get me wrong, Mac, I think you and I could be friends it's just that I really do worry about my brother. Nathan takes the blame for everything in the life of everyone around him that's gone wrong and I think the reason he doesn't date is because he doesn't want to add that to the list." Bev was softening in her tone.

"He's a good guy. There aren't many left like him." Mac admitted.

2 DAYS LATER

HARM'S APARTMENT

NORTH OF UNION STATION

"Admiral, sir, can I ask what brings you by?" Harm opened the door to let the Admiral into his apartment.

"Meg's asked for a transfer, effective immediately. I sent her to the NATO office in London to be the Chief of Staff. You want to tell me what happened that she felt the need to leave here so quickly?" Admiral Chegwidden questioned.

"Now why does everyone always assume that I did something? First with Mac, now with Meg. You know it's not always my fault." Harm argued through a combination of shock and frustration.

"I know that you might not get the benefit of the doubt sometimes but you do often enough. In any case, I can't see it being her work, it's top notch so logically it would have to be her personal life. This leads me to believe that either you know what's wrong or if you don't, it's because you _are_ what's wrong." The Admiral concluded.

"You know, when you're right, you're really right." Harm admitted self-deprecatingly.

"She said she was packed and Tiner made reservations to have her on the first flight from Dulles to Heathrow tonight." The Admiral informed Harm. "She told me to give you this." The Admiral handed Harm a letter from the inside of his jacket. Harm took the letter and tore open the envelope.

_Dear Harm,_

_I know, it must feel like I'm just slipping away again, but I'm not. When I originally got orders to come back to Washington I was excited because part of me always thought that there might have been a chance for us. When I first got back, everything that happened was looking like my suspicions could be confirmed. But soon after your friend's wedding a few weeks back, you've been slipping, Harm._

_I know why that is. It's her. I guess I thought that maybe, your feelings for her weren't that strong or maybe your feelings for me might be stronger but I was wrong on both counts. I saw things start to pop up. Like the way you behaved at the wedding after the illustrious dance. Or when you saw her picture in the magazine and then finally when she called the other night._

_Call it my own insecurity, Harm, but I couldn't go on that way. Looking over my shoulder wondering if I was only holding a place until you worked things out with Colonel MacKenzie. I can only advise you to not waste any more time. You know what you want, Harm, go after it. I hope we can still be friends and I'm sure you'll understand if I don't call for a while._

_Sincerely,_

_Meg_

Harm closed the letter and tucked it back inside the envelope. Then looked up at the Admiral. "Are you going to go to London to talk to her?" The Admiral asked as the two men took a seat.

"No. A clean break was what we needed and a clean break was what we got. I have no right to ask any more of her." Harm admitted weakly.

"Well, son, what are you going to do?" The Admiral inquired, leaning forward, his elbows digging into his knees.

"Not much I can do. I can't go back and I don't want to stay here. I've got to move on." Harm stated solemnly before tossing the letter on the table. Life had once again thrown Harmon Rabb a curveball. Harm stared at the blank TV screen in front of him. "Orioles/Yankees game tonight." Harm offered, looking up the Admiral.

"You got any beer in this place?" The Admiral asked, getting up out of the chair.

"In the fridge." Harm chuckled a little. It was good to laugh again.

2200 ZULU

BETHESDA NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER

BETHESDA, MARYLAND

"Alright, Mr. Ross. Your X-rays all look good and you can head on home today." The Doctor was smiling widely as Mac helped Nate adjust his crutches. "You're going to have to take it easy on that knee for a while. I'm sure Mrs. Ross will see to that."

"I sure will." Mac chuckled slightly, as did Nate. Their 'marriage' had become something of a novelty.

"I'm releasing you into Mrs. Ross' custody, I'm sure a Marine Lieutenant Colonel will keep you under control and prevent you from doing wind-sprints up and down staircases, right, Colonel?" The Doctor asked.

"Well I'm not sure I want him getting too lazy, doc." Mac jested.

"I take a bullet for you and you still won't let me off the hook? What do I have to do?" Nate dragged out a mock whine.

"The dishes." Mac added causing some laughter in the room.

"I hope we don't see you in the near future, Mr. Ross." The doctor said as they left the hospital. The doors closed behind them and the doctor headed back into the hospital.

"Mac, I don't have to stay with you, I'll be perfectly fine on my own." Nate protested.

"Oh no, you were released into my custody, I can't have you getting hurt. The nice doctor man will think I wasn't taking very good care of you." Mac toyed.

"Please, Mac, I'll be perfectly fine, really I will, you can come by and check on me but you really don't have to take me in." Nate was pleading.

"Would it really be that bad?" Mac's tone was accusatory.

"No, I'm sure it would be fun. It's just that……" Nate started muttering.

"Just that what?" Mac questioned.

"I plead the fifth." Nate jested and Mac wheeled him to the car.


	13. The Lone and Level Sands

_A/N: Good news for all the Harm/Mac Shippers, the worst of your angst is over. For all you Nate/Peach shippers, you ain't seen nothing yet! We all figured that if you were going to cheer for Nate/Peach, you should at least know why you want them together. _

Mac and Nate were sitting quietly in her apartment. The last few days had been something of a scattered mess. With the ordeal done and over with, both of them finally had some time to relax. Nate's mind had been focused on getting back to work, no matter how often Mac and or the doctor told him to go easy on his knee. He was trying to focus on everything but the woman with whom he seemed to be spending the majority of his time recently.

Mac was sitting on her couch, trying to sort out her own romantic life. She realized, that in all she had revealed to Nate about her relationship with Harm, Nate had revealed surprisingly little if anything about his relationship with Peach. It didn't take a Nate Ross degree in body language to know that there was something between the two of them, even if it did seem somewhat one-sided.

Nate's reactions were nothing to judge feelings by. The man could hide behind a façade of Marine stoicism that had been fashioned by several generations of Marine Corps breeding. If Nate Ross didn't want someone to read his facial expressions, there was no way in hell they were going to be able to. Eventually, she knew, she was just going to have to ask. "Why do you freeze up sometimes?" Mac asked.

"What do you mean?" Nate responded, his elbows digging into his legs as he leaned forward.

"I mean, there are times when you can be this open book but when you want to, you can shut that open book and make it impossible for anyone else to open it." Mac explained, wringing her hands openly. Nate thought for a second and ran his hand over the light beard on his cheeks and chin. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and produced a little book, no bigger then a date-book. He tossed it on the coffee table in front of Mac. Mac reached down and picked up the book. "What's this?"

She flipped through the pages, there were pages that were filled with pencilled in entries that were all written in short hand. She noticed eighty-seven entries had been numbered in the book before the writing stopped all together. "When you join the Sniper Corps, they send you to a shrink that tells you to keep this book as a therapeutic exercise. It's a Kill Book. Rather then try and remember all the people I shot when I was in the Corps, the book remembers for me." Nate explained. "There are dates, descriptions of the kill, names if I was told before the mission and times. It's not a lock up I do when I don't feel like opening up, it's a lock down. Like what happens in a prison. My mind just closes off all doors to the outside and I retreat into myself. I had to do it in order to kill the eighty-seven people in that book and every once in a while, my mind does it to remain in control."

"Nate, if that was all it was why didn't you just say that?" Mac questioned, slightly concerned by the ominous words.

"Because it's bad enough that I can't stop thinking about it. Making other people think about it isn't an option in my opinion. I will forever be attached to those eighty-seven people. I've heard the excuses and the rationalizations, that I was a trained soldier, a weapon of war, the same as a cruise missile or a bullet. None of that made it any easier. It was……when a normal Marine kills another human they can say 'it was either him or me'. In my case, it was a rarity that the people I shot ever even saw me. My life was a soundtrack of gunshots, locking another bullet into place, my heartbeat pounding in my ears and the slight sliding of my finger as I squeeze the trigger." Nate let out a heavy breath.

"Is that why you never let Peach get too close? Never let her know where she really stood with you except for a few pragmatic parts of your life?" Mac's prosecutorial instinct was kicking in rapidly.

"I suppose I do owe you something on that part. You told me about you and Ham, the least I could do was explain my own screwed up personal life. What do you want to know?" Nate asked.

"What are you willing to tell me?" Mac replied.

Flashback –

SEPTEMBER 1993

HARRY TRUMAN BUILDING

FOGGY BOTTOM, WASHINGTON DC

"Alright, technically I can hire just about anyone I feel like hiring but in order to work on the North Africa/Middle East portfolio, you have to be cleared by the big boss." Gavin Ahrens led a younger Nicole DiPiccio through the rows of cubicles over to the big corner window office. Gavin knocked on the door and stepped back. A few seconds later, a younger Nate Ross came to the door and looked from Gavin to Nicole and then brought his eyes back to Gavin.

"Oh for Christ's sake Gavin, you're the director of personnel, you don't have to be afraid of me." Nate joked and gave Gavin a pat on the back.

"Stanford for her undergrad in History and Masters from the School of International Affairs at the University of Southern California and she speaks Spanish, English, Italian and Greek. She was hired to fill your junior negotiator void. Nicole, this is Nate Ross, he's your new boss. Nate's a Penn State/Princeton type; seven languages and the youngest undersecretary in charge of a portfolio, in the history of the United States Foreign Service." Gavin motioned to introduce the two.

"Is there some kind of reason for me to have a junior negotiator, Gavin?" Nate questioned.

"Every team is given two negotiators, one is the Undersecretary, and the other is the Special Assistant to the Undersecretary. You need this last member for your folio, I interviewed about forty applicants, and Nicole was the one I thought would work best with you. She's got the same kind of killer instinct that you do except she can play the good cop too, the closest you get to playing good cop is holding off on pummelling stupid people." Gavin joked. "I'll just leave you two to get acquainted."

"It's a pleasure to work with you, Mr. Ross." Nicole extended her hand.

"It's Nate, and trust me Miss. DiPiccio, it won't always be a pleasure to work with me. Sometimes it will be miserable, horrible and down right degrading, but as long as the job gets done, ours is not to question why." Nate and Nicole began to move through the cubicles.

"My friends call me Nic." Nicole said

"Nick, is a guy's name. Why not 'Peach' from your last name DiPiccio?" Nate turned back toward her, smiling in his own coy, almost condescending way.

"Peach, uh…" Nicole turned her gaze toward the floor to avoid looking at him. "Peach works." She stated with a nervous giggle, brushing an errant piece of hair out of face.

"Good, this here's Morley, he'll get you settled in. I've got a meeting with Holbrooke in twenty minutes that I absolutely cannot be late for. Tomorrow, I'll get you caught up and you'll pretty much be partnered with me until they either shuffle me up the ladder or shuffle me out to an embassy." Nate turned on heel and walked down the row toward the elevator.

"That's the boss. He's an alright guy once you get to know him. He's actually pretty funny and even a pretty soft touch when it comes to working hours but he's hard on himself. I don't think he walks out of that office until 2300 most nights. Mrs. Boss doesn't get it. She's pretty hard on him, I think he stays here until he just can't stay awake any more." Morley stated, scratching his signature across a form.

"Is he like the consummate professional or something?" Peach said caustically.

"Nah, he just needs to warm up to you." Morley laughed.

End Flashback-

"That was the day Peach walked into the State Department." Nate hung his head slightly. He gave his head a little shake and looked back up at Mac.

"You can be remarkably cocky sometimes and you can walk around like someone put too much starch in your shirt." Mac chuckled lightly.

"I'll remember that, I think it comes with being overeducated." Nate chuckled as well.

"The stories can't end there, I mean, there had to be something between you meeting Peach and your divorce the next May." Mac goaded like a little girl who wanted more bedtime story.

"There was this one time I remember." Nate started.

Flashback –

MARCH 1994

HARRY TRUMAN BUILDING

FOGGY BOTTOM, WASHINGTON DC

Nate had his desk-lamp on and his jacket off as he was hunched over his desk, his eyes poring over the transcripts of negotiations in front of him. "Go home, Rose is waiting for you, you know she is." Peach was leaning against his doorframe.

"We're close, Peach. Really close. If I can help crack this one for Holbrooke, God only knows what it could mean." Nate looked up at the woman standing in his doorway.

"Nate, you're married to your wife not your job, go home and be with her, she'll appreciate it. You stay late every other night." Peach began to walk over from the doorframe. "You're so dedicated, so driven and it's all completely rooted in selflessness, go home and be selfless for her."

"It's got to be hard for her, Nate. You're Mister Ambition, Nate, and that's admirable but she needs to know that she comes first." Peach was now leaning over the desk and suddenly the room felt just a little warmer. Nate had to loosen his tie a little more.

"I don't know, Peach, we're in some pretty rough waters. I'm not sure that Rose and I can make it through." Nate shook his head.

"You never know unless you really try." She countered. Their lips were mere inches apart. They were looking into each other's eyes. Nate's tired, haggard look lending his young features a distinct wisdom.

"You're right." Nate retreated up out of his chair, he grabbed his jacket and headed out the door. "Thanks, Peach."

"What about the Holbrooke transcripts?" Peach asked, holding up the paper.

"They'll look the same tomorrow morning." Nate smiled coyly before continuing his walk toward the elevator.

End Flashback –

"Would you have done it? Would you have cheated on your wife?" Mac's mind was rife with anticipation.

"I don't think so. Part of me knew that my marriage was hitting a very rough spot though when that happened. I was working twelve to fourteen hour days working to keep down fires in the Muslim world and working on Holbrooke's team to end the war in Bosnia. When I was in town, I was tired or working and then I would be out of town for days at a time. Then of course Rose would always put two and two together and think that since Peach and I were working together all the time, we couldn't just be friends, we _had_ to be sleeping together." Nate ran a hand over the top of his head and through his hair.

"Okay, so your wife was having some problems containing the green-eyed monster. What happened next?" Mac asked. Nate shook his head from side to side before continuing.

-Flashback-

MAY 1994

HARRY TRUMAN BUILDING

FOGGY BOTTOM, WASHINGTON DC

"How's it going, boss?" Morley questioned, carrying his own tone of exuberance on his voice.

"Fan-fucking-tastic, Morley. I'm getting divorced you jackass, how the fuck do you think I'm doing!" Nate practically shouted to the entire floor bringing the action to a halt. "I'm going to make this very clear to everyone here. **I am fine.** If any of you feel the need to impart some kind of Oprah/Barbara Walters/Dr. Laura solution on me, remember two things: I control your employment here and I control what hours you work. So, unless you want to be working the midnight to 0800 shift every morning for the next fiscal quarter, leave me the fuck alone today." Nate turned into the door of his office and slammed the door behind him.

"You think the boss is really that pissed?" Morley turned toward Peach.

"Have you ever seen him blow up like that with anyone else?" Peach responded to Morley's question with an annoyed glare.

"Beware: Pissed off, divorced, United States Marine in possession of high-powered rifle." Morley turned to head back to his cubicle. Peach bit her lip, slightly nervous before heading off toward Nate's office. She opened the door and walked in.

"I think that you sufficiently scared everyone on the floor with that speech. I'll be surprised if the dust-mites even come within three feet of that door." Peach through herself down in the chair.

"That just begs the question, what part of 'leave me alone' didn't _you_ understand?" Nate looked up from the work on his desk.

"The part where I know that you can talk a big game, but you wouldn't follow through on that threat when it came to me or Morley. So, cut the tough guy act and go home. If you've ever had the right to take a personal leave day, this is that day." Peach across the desk and put her hand on his in a gesture of support.

"I don't do personal leave days." Nate returned his gaze to the red folder that was laid open in front of him.

"Nate, the State Department is not going to collapse if you take the day off because you're about to go through a divorce. Are you staying at home with Rose tonight?" Peach questioned.

"No, uh, I've been at the Holiday Inn for most of the week. I think, I'll talk to Mike Bradley at Langley a little later on. The whole thing should be over kind of quickly. I never thought I'd say this, but thank God for pre-nups." Nate chuckled self-deprecatingly before turning on his chair to face the TV in the room.

"You could stay with me if you need a place for awhile." Peach offered.

"I'm not sure that my lawyer will like that too much. Me staying at the apartment of a beautiful woman won't exactly play well in divorce proceedings, you know the way lawyers twist things." Nate explained with a heavy undertone.

"Yeah, it's getting so that a man and woman can't even be friends. If they get within three feet, they're automatically squeezing in a little sheet time together." Peach chuckled nervously.

"Squeezing in a little sheet time? That's really mature, Peach." Nate laughed.

"See, I knew I could get you to smile. Just remember, I'm here if you need to talk to me." Peach sat back in her chair. "You're a good guy, Nate."

"Just not a good husband." Nate admitted with a depressed tone.

"You're young yet, leatherneck, give it time." Peach lightly gave Nate's knuckles a pat before heading out of the office.

End Flashback –

Mac had to admire the girl's gusto. She was always there for Nate, no matter what it meant.

"The divorce became final a few weeks later and that was when Peach and I started to get closer as friends. We'd work on things at our respective apartments more, she'd fall asleep on my shoulder on plane trips and I'd get invited over for an Italian home cooked meal every time her grandmother was in town. Things went on at this light pace for the rest of '94 and '95 until we got back from Dayton in November…."

Flashback-

NOVEMBER 22nd, 1995

PRESTON ROSS' HOUSE

LEESBURG, VIRGINIA

"Is this the first time that you've seen Preston since your parents moved him out here to Leesburg?" Peach asked as the car pulled up to the boulevard in front of the house.

"Yeah, well, my mom realized that between her professorship at Georgetown and Dad's book tour, they can't really take care of him and they figured that he could probably handle being on his own again, I mean for the love of God, it's been four years." Nate and Peach got out of the car and started walking up the driveway to the house.

It was late afternoon and both of them were a little tired from the weeks' events. So the walk up the driveway was a little slower then usual. Both of them were still decked out in their best work attire. Nate in his tailored suit and Marine issue beige coat. Peach was wearing her own suit and heels, without the tie but rather a nice sweater under the coat. "Come on, Preston's going to want to see his little brother some time today, leatherneck." Peach coached as she started to jog up the driveway. Nate played for a few seconds before catching up to her. Then they heard one loud gunshot ring through the air, coming from the house.

Both of them began to run at a frantic pace up the steps of the porch. Nate kicked in the front door and the two of them began to search the house for Preston. Eventually, Nate made his way into the living room where he came upon the scene. The limp form of his brother was strewn across the floor, the old service sidearm was nearby and the wound in the back of Preston's head was indicative of only one thing; suicide. The note lay on a table on the other side of the room next to a picture of the two of them in their cammies on the ground in Kuwait.

Nate fell to his knees and began to quietly sob. Peach came around the corner to see the strongest man she had ever known, crippled to the floor under and emotional weight that would scare Atlas. She knelt next to him and it was mere seconds before Nate clutched at her desperately, a man looking for a stable thing in the world to hold on to. She held his head against her chest in a gesture of caring and security rather then desire.

"Hold on, don't get lost, I'll be here for you." She whispered into his ear and the two of them just knelt in that position on the floor until the emergency teams arrived. When the cops had finished asking questions and Nate had finished giving the paramedics all the information he could give them, Peach put her arm around his shoulders and guided him out of the house. When they got out of the house, Peach put her hand under his chin and lifted his face so that he was looking into her eyes. "Nathan, promise me…" she gripped his shoulders, "promise me, that you won't blame yourself for any of this. Nathan, you have to promise me." She was on the verge of tears herself, her lower lip quivering openly. Rather then answer, Nate just pulled her in for a tight hug.

End Flashback –

"But you did end up blaming yourself. Even though it wasn't your fault, nor was there anyway you could be blamed, you thought about what would have been if only you hadn't dragged your feet walking up the driveway, or what if you had shot the other guy four years earlier. Once again you blamed yourself for being nanoseconds too late. Didn't you?" Mac questioned looking over at an emotional wrought Nathan Ross.

"It is my fault, Mac!" Nate tried to launch himself to his feet but fell to the floor after putting too much pressure on his knee.

"Oh God, Nate don't overwork your knee. I'm supposed to be nursing you back to health not letting you make your knee worse." Mac knelt down and helped Nate back up to the couch. "Now, as for Preston's death, none of it was your fault. You didn't give him the gun. Even if you did drag your feet when you were in driveway, if he was determined to really kill himself, he would have done it eventually anyway and there was nothing you could have done to stop him."

"That doesn't make it any easier, Mac. In the span of eighteen months, I'd lost the two people I was closest too in the world and all I could think was that I could have done something to make sure I still had them both and the whole time, I didn't see the one person that was willing to stick by me." Nate ran his left hand over the hair on his chin.

"Alright, you and I both know that these kinds of relationships never go too long without the sexual tension rising to the surface at some point where neither party can gloss over it or try and ignore it any more. When did that moment come for the two of you?" Mac asked.

"Well, New Year's Eve 1998, we were in Dublin working with both the British and Irish diplomatic corps on a way to end the troubles in the North…"

Flashback-

DECEMBER 31st, 1998

ARCHBISHOP RYAN PARK

DUBLIN, REPUBLIC OF IRELAND

Nate and Peach had left their British and Irish counterparts at Dougal's in Merrion Square and went for a walk through the park. "I don't know why, but I always love coming to this city, there's just something about it." Nate was being slightly more sentimental tonight. "For some reason the song _Evangeline_ just started running through my head."

"_She stands on the banks of the Mighty Mississippi, alone in the pale moonlight, waiting for a man, a riverboat gambler, said that he'd return tonight." _ Peach sang softly into the night air.

"_They used to waltz on the banks of the Mighty Mississippi, loving the whole night through, till the riverboat gambler, went off to make a killing and bring it on back to you."_ Nate sang the next part. Then two voices joined for the chorus. _"Evangeline, Evangeline, curses the soul of the Mississippi Queen that pulled her man away."_

"That was the first song that you and I ever danced to at an embassy reception." Peach chuckled lightly.

"Yeah, I remember. I love that song. I never knew why that whenever you and I would sing it, you would always sing Rick's part and I would sing Emmylou's." Nate chuckled as the two of them approached the statue of Oscar Wilde perched on the rock. "I remember, Princeton Lit class, there was this one quote from Oscar Wilde that I remembered, or stuck with me, however you prefer to think about it."

"What was the quote?" Peach stepped a little closer to Nate's side, looping her arm through his.

"When a love comes to an end, weaklings cry, efficient ones instantly find another love, and the wise already have one in reserve.' I spent a lot of time thinking about that quote a while back." Nate let out a heavy breath and his breath rose in a fog through the air.

"So, what are you; efficient or wise?" Peach asked and Nate was forced to gulp, his body language knowledge giving him some foresight into where the conversation was headed.

"I don't really fit into any of the categories." Nate chuckled nervously.

"I suppose you're right. In the five years since your divorce you haven't dated and if you were either efficient or wise you would have picked up another lover since then. So what has someone like you clinging to bachelorhood?" Peach asked.

"Someone like me?" Nate replied.

"Brilliant, funny, charming, nice, good-looking; you know, Prince Charming minus the horse." She joked, trying to hide some of what was about to burst through the seams of the conversation.

"I suppose I could ask you the same question. Why is a beautiful, intelligent and mesmerizing woman such as yourself, single?" Nate finally lifted his eyes to face her.

"I asked first." She replied somewhat breathless.

"I don't have an answer." Nate made a prolonged blink.

"Either do I." Peach added. "So where does that leave us?"

"A Park in Dublin on New Year's Eve." Nate looked down at his watch. "With eleven seconds until midnight."

"Ten." Peach corrected.

"Nine." Nate added, his eyelids holding at half-staff over his eyes.

"Eight." Peach's lips began to gravitate towards Nate's.

"Seven." His lips got closer to hers.

"Six." Her tone was become huskier and her breath coming in more rapid gasps.

"Five." Nate's eyes danced across the vision that her lips made before him.

"Four." Her chest connected with his as they got closer.

"Three." His head bent just a little more.

"Two." Her voice was now at a bedroom tone.

"One." He closed the distance between them as their lips interlocked. His tongue traced the seam of her lips her so slightly as if a cautious request for permission. She couldn't help but smile as she willingly obliged him. His arms came around her waist and pressed her against him. He supported her as she fell against him. Just as soon as this frenzied coupling had united, spurred on by years of pent up sexual tension that could light a small city, it was broken. "Oh God, Peach, I'm so sorry." Nate pulled away and wiped his lips.

"Why? If you couldn't tell, I was a more then willing participant." She countered, taking the step toward him.

"That doesn't make it right." Nate answered.

"I'm afraid I don't understand." Peach moved toward him again, this time not in an aggressive but more of a reassuring way.

"You're Peach! You're my best friend, the woman whose kept me sane for five years……I'm not supposed to do things like that with you." Nate protested.

"Why not? You said it yourself, I'm a woman. I have news for you Nate, you're a man. A man I respect, like and admire very much so you'll excuse me if I don't understand the problem. Are you not attracted to me or something?" Peach took a protective step backward.

"Don't think that for a second." Nate shot back like he was trying to collect his thoughts.

"Then what? I'm not good enough for you?" She was now a full-fledged woman on a rampage.

"You're too good for me and my complexes and issues. You deal with my ability to deal with them. If you got any closer to me, you'd actually have to deal with the problem and I'm not about to be responsible for screwing up your life with my problems." Nate's outburst was soon reined back in. "I understand what this whole night has meant, so, the second we get back to Washington, I'll call Andrea Wallace over at the Southern Europe desk and have you transferred over to her department." Nate began to walk away when Peach caught him by the arm.

"No." She stated quietly. "No, I can work with you. You're about to fill Bill Ward's chair as the Assistant Secretary for our department and when you do, I want you to know that you have someone you can count on as part of your team." She reassured him.

"Nothing's really changed?" Nate asked.

"Nothing's really changed." Peach affirmed. No matter how much they would deny it in the coming months though. Something had definitely changed.

-End Flashback-

"Your mom obviously didn't teach you a damn thing when you were growing up. Not about women anyway." Mac protested.

"What are you talking about?" Nate was now trying not to be offended.

"Nate, women don't need you to protect them all the time. You have to be one of the most frustrating men I've ever met! It's hard to fault you for anything because you never think of yourself but good God you can be frustrating. It wasn't up to you to protect her on this one. She knew what she was getting into, for God's sake; she was with you when you discovered your brother's body." Mac protested.

"If that was all I thought it was, I would have had no problems. My issues with the Commandant, that kill book," Nate pointed the little red book on the table, "that's a world I was trying to protect her from. You told me once, when you told me about Chris, that given the right circumstances we are all capable of murder. If someone came across that book, they'd say that I proved capable eighty-seven times. Mac, be a lawyer for a second, with the evidence in front of you, am I capable of killing again?"

Mac had to pause for a second. "It wasn't murder." Then Mac thought, she was about to say something that she remembered Nate saying he'd heard before. "It was your job, Nate. You were trained to squeeze a trigger and who knows how many lives you saved by using that skill the way you did. Yeah, eighty-seven people ended up on the wrong end of your scope but they might have killed Marines if they hadn't. You did what needed to be done and even though it sure as hell wasn't pretty, you did it anyway."

"Yeah, you get it, you're a Marine. She was just some cloistered kid from Seattle; the idea of killing out of necessity wouldn't have washed with her. So, it became necessary to try and keep her at arms length so that every thing could slowly go back to normal." Nate explained.

"Enter Petra Triescu."

Flashback –

NOVEMBER 1999

NATO SUMMIT

BARCELONA, SPAIN

"Alright, just remember that you've got a meeting with the French and Italian delegations tomorrow morning before your round-table tomorrow evening. You got all that?" Peach questioned as they walked into the lobby of the hotel.

"Power down, DiPiccio, we've got a good nine hours before then. I'm going to go have a drink at the bar with Spinner and Morley, see you tomorrow." Nate headed off toward the lounge.

"Make sure you have Malbec, you're always at the top of your game after you drink something Argentinean." Peach pointed out as she headed off toward the elevator.

"Peach, we're in Spain; I'm going to have Tempranillo." Nate chuckled slightly.

"You only drink wine, why is that?" Peach questioned as the two faced each other across the lobby.

"It's classy kind of like me." Nate replied coyly.

"My God, you've got an ego." Peach jibed before stepping on to the elevator. Nate turned into the lounge and saw his two friends sitting at a table.

"Tell me that you two haven't just been sitting in the hotel all day. This is Spain for God's sakes, go out and get laid, you'll feel better." Nate pulled a chair up to the table.

"Sorry, boss it's just that Spinner and I have been sitting here for the last hour trying to figure out the right way to approach the ladies at the bar but we can't think of a single thing." Morley admitted, only momentarily turning his gaze from the beautiful girls.

"Guys, there's nothing to it." Nate said as he raised his glass of Tempranillo to his lips. "Just walk over to them and talk. Don't over think it. That's Petra Triescu, she's the chief of American affairs for the government of Latvia, my guess is that her friends are fellow diplomats, talk to them about the summit, then gently wean on to other topics."

"Boss, those are model worthy women and I'm just an average kid from Jersey, I got about as much of a chance with one of those women as I do with an actual model." Spinner commented.

"Nonsense, guys, if I can do it, so can you." Nate coached as he finished off his first glass of wine and ordered a second which was promptly delivered.

"Boss, we're not in the same league when it comes to women, we all know that. You might have a chance with them but I definitely don't." Morley jested. Nate was quickly draining his second glass of wine. He wiped his mouth once he finished the second glass.

"Come on, boss, are you saying that you could just walk up to Petra and get her phone number or something?" Spinner asked disbelievingly.

"I got an Andrew Jackson says you can't even get her phone number, boss." Morley raised an American twenty dollar bill out of his pocket.

"I'll put twenty in." Spinner dropped a twenty on the table.

"I couldn't take your money." Nate chuckled.

"All talk, huh, boss?" Morley jibed. Nate looked from the forty dollars on the table over to the very well proportioned blonde sitting at the bar.

"A Marine never backs down from a challenge, especially from someone who went to the University of Michigan." Nate got up and walked over to the bar. He leaned on the bar and edged closer to Petra.

"When did you get in?" Nate asked in Russian, being as it was a language they could communicate in safely without being overheard.

"Early this afternoon, yourself?" She replied in a like manner.

"Late last night. How long has it been since we……?" Nate couldn't bring himself to fully finish the sentence.

"Too long. Can you still do that one thing where……?" She eluded, unsure how to finish the sentence.

"Sure can. So when are we going to……" Nate asked.

"How about now?" Petra finished looking over at him. She got up off the barstool and took Nate's arm as the two of them walked out of the lounge.

"We're going to owe him forty bucks tomorrow." Spinner deadpanned.

A FEW HOURS LATER…………

"Nate open up, I know you're in there." Peach pounded on the door of Nate's hotel room. A few minutes later, Nate came walking back over to the door in the complimentary white cotton bathrobe that came with the room.

"Peach, it's very late. Unless there is something that could adversely effect my position at the meeting with the French at 0900 tomorrow morning, I really don't need to hear it." Nate opened the door slightly.

"Actually, I just wanted to return this copy of _Dorian Gray_ that you lent me. I can see what you like about Oscar Wilde now." She replied as she handed him the book. In order to grab for the book, the door swung wider to reveal the sight of Petra Triescu lying naked on top of the covers in the room. "I see you're entertaining." Peach remarked coldly.

"I'll be better at the tables tomorrow if I'm not frustrated." Nate retorted in a pathetic excuse for an explanation.

"Would figure that we couldn't go to Europe and have you keep it in your pants until we got home." She tossed the book at his chest. Nate closed the door and stepped out into the hallway.

"Last I checked, my sex life was not the business of the State Department in particular or the American government as a whole. So, if I want to make Petra scream Russian obscenities and invoke the deities until four in the morning, in the same manner as she's been doing for the last two hours, that will remain my business. Are we understood?" Nate's stature seemed to inflate before Peach's very eyes.

"You know, when you act like an asshole you go all Princeton on us and make sure that everyone knows just how well spoken you can be. Well, I have news for you, Mr. Ross. It _is_ the business of the United States what you do tonight because the amount of sleep you get tonight will affect your performance tomorrow. So, yeah, you can go back in there and screw her pretty little blonde head off but in the six years I've known you, you wouldn't throw your job away for anything. You wouldn't let it take second place to your marriage, or your family or even your friends and you expect me to believe that Nathan Daniel Ross is going to go in there and throw away his job for sex? Nathan, no matter how good a diplomat you are, you're a shitty actor. If you do anything but go back in there and sleep, I'll bite my finger off. Face it, Nate you don't have it in you to be a slacker." Peach challenged.

"So much for 'nothing's really changed'." Nate spat back.

"You know what? I don't know what the hell happened but you've been a real asshole lately. Call me when you find my friend Nate, would you?" With that Peach turned and headed back down the hall.

"Definitely should have had the Malbec." Nate slunk back into the hotel room.

End Flashback –

"I've heard that you two came within centimetres of killing each other in the months that followed that night. What happened then?" Mac asked, thoroughly enthralled by the stories.

"She started dating a doctor at Mercy Hospital and I threw myself into work again." Nate leaned back against the couch.

"What happened with her and the doctor?" Mac inquired.

"He and I got into a fistfight at the Truman Building. We weren't sure which of us started it." Nate chuckled slightly.

"But you being the Marine likely pounded the crap out of him." Mac concluded.

"Broke three ribs, his nose and his arm. I escaped with a few bruises and cuts. Nothing an ice pack and a few days of work wouldn't cure." Nate chuckled once again.

"She forgave you for that?" Mac asked, her interest at a peak.

"Yeah, that actually caused the break up between her and the doctor. She refused to believe that I started the fight. He said it was because she could never see my faults and he just couldn't be in a relationship where he was being judged against another guy so prevalently." Nate informed Mac as he slowly got off the couch this time and began to pace the room.

"Alright, so what happened when you left the State Department last November?" Mac was probing just so she could get to the root of the current animosity.

"Ah yes…"

-Flashback-

NOVEMBER, 2001  
HARRY TRUMAN BUILDING

FOGGY BOTTOM, WASHINGTON DC

Nate stood out on the old stone balcony of the Secretary of State's office overlooking the Washington. Inside the office, a party was being had in his honour. Nate leaned over the railing and took the chilly Washington air into his lungs. That was when he heard the familiar sound of heels clacking behind him. "Well if it isn't the man of the hour." Peach slurred, obviously having visited the bar inside.

"Honey, you're drunk, I'll drive you home." Nate started to guide her back inside.

"Oh yes, Nathan Ross, can't imagine that someone might want to loosen up a little. All business, Mr. Professional, soon to be Mr. President," she chuckled, "coming to a Blockbuster near you!"

"God, you're drunk off your ass. Come on, let's get you home." Nate tried to guide her back in but she struggled against him again.

"I'm not drunk. You and I are full of shit. We say we want full honesty, but we're only honest when we're asked the question. That's not full honesty because to be completely honest, Nathan, I want to fuck your brains out. Admit it, you've thought about it." She winked at him.

"As a heterosexual male, the thought has crossed my mind, yes." Nate replied stoically.

"I bet your good. Hell I know it, the whole fucking hotel was talking about that night with Petra, I think most of us heard it, she wasn't exactly quiet. Score one more for your ego. Yeah, I had to field questions too. Other women wondering how close _we_ really were, wondering how big _it_ was, all sorts of questions. Your cock basically had it's own press conference and I was its press secretary. Then it occurred to me that's pretty much my job for you. For eight years, I've been your secretary basically. No one knows you better then I do, but still I don't know what's going on in that fucked up little Marine head of yours." Peach jabbed her index finger into his forehead.

"Come on, let's get you home and in bed." Nate coached.

"Now you're talking!" She smacked him on the ass. "Be honest, Nate, if I had asked you. Just came right out and asked you for the whole 'friends with benefits' package, would you have obliged?"

"No. I respect you too much." Nate opened the door to the inside of the building.

"Bullshit! You don't fucking respect me at all! You never let me make any decisions regarding work. Nope, when it comes to North Africa and the Middle East, you're the boss and everyone fucking knows it. Hell, even Malcolm treats you like you're Jesus Christ and he's just Saint Peter. But I know you specialize in it and I know you're my boss technically so I don't try and make decisions without consulting you about work. But you know what fucking hurt the most? You didn't think I could decide whether I could deal with you and that little fucked up life of yours. Well I have news for you, I knew, I knew it all and I still fell for you! So to hell with you and your dignity, I don't need you to drive me home!" She turned from him but not before he could pluck the keys from her pocket.

"Not much you can do without these." He dangled the keys off his finger.

"Give them back, Nate. You can be an asshole, that's fine, I've learned how to deal with that but don't go back to self-righteous and noble now that I want to forget you." Peach lunged for the keys but Nate ducked them into his breast pocket. He then reached down and hauled her up over his shoulder to take her home and help her sober up.

End Flashback –

"That's one long and interesting history. No wonder you understand Harm and I so well." Mac admitted.

"It's not about understanding, it's about not judging." Nate answered.


	14. Where Many Paths and Errands Meet

_Guest Starring: Elizabeth Rohm as Stacy Anderson_

"What do you think of Bev?" Mac asked and Nate stopped washing the dishes.

"Bev is my sister and I love her dearly, why?" Nate retorted.

"What do you think of the Admiral?" Mac seemed to ignore his question.

"Having only talked to him a handful of times, he seems like a nice enough guy, kind of gruff but that's expected from a SEAL." Nate admitted.

"I think we should set them up." Mac admitted aloud.

"No, I have a very strict agreement with my sisters, I don't set them up and they don't set me up." Nate turned to face Mac.

"Oh come on, where's your sense of adventure? I bet I could do it without Bev or the Admiral ever knowing." Mac boasted.

"Isn't fixing up, something that busybodies and married people do because they're bored with their own life?" Nate questioned.

"Something you're trying to say, Major?" Mac placed her hands on her hips. It would of course be that second that Nate's cellphone rang. "I'm regretting teaching you to forward calls to that thing now." Mac muttered.

"You got Nate……when?...yeah, yeah, I'll be right there……Mercy…...are you sure?...time frame……that little? I'm on my way." Nate snapped his phone closed. "That was Gavin Ahrens, the President's Chief of Staff, he just told me that Malcolm Anderson is in the hospital."

"Oh my God, what happened?" Mac raised a hand to her mouth .

"Veronica Anderson took her husband to the hospital. He was complaining of fever, headaches, he'd get chills, he's lost his appetite recently and even I've noticed that he's been more tired recently. Well, the doctors did a bone marrow biopsy along with a full slate of blood work. Apparently, he's been battling Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia. Because the disease comes on slow, no one saw anything until he passed out at the house this afternoon. According to the doctors, he's had it for years. They're giving him six hours to live, he's not making it through the night." Nate answered, lightly stroking his beard.

Mac knew how close Nate was to Malcolm who'd been one of his professors at Princeton. She knew that he must be going through a pretty thing right now. "Come on, I'll drive you to Mercy." Mac offered having remembered hearing him mention the hospital.

"Thanks, Mac." Nate solemnly slipped his shoes on and the two of them drove down to Mercy Hospital.

0234 ZULU

MERCY HOSPITAL

WASHINGTON, DC

Nate came running down the corridors of the hospital to see Gavin, The President, a bevy of Secret Service Agents around Veronica Anderson. "Nathan!" Veronica screeched as she threw herself into Nate's arms. "Oh God, Nathan, they say my Malcolm's going to leave me!" She cried into his shoulder. Nate closed his arms around her back.

"It's okay Ronnie, I'm here. Does Stacy know?" Nate asked softly.

"She's on a place in from New York right now." Ronnie answered with a nod.

"Nathan, Malcolm is asking to see you." The President interrupted the moment. Nate nodded and backed away from Mrs. Anderson. He walked over to Mac to whisper something to her quickly. "If you're going to stay, please help Mrs. Anderson. She's not strong like you are. I need you, Mac. Because I'm not sure I'll get through this, I need one person here who knows how to be the bedrock because I'm not sure I will be able to."

Mac nodded and the Secret Service Agents led Nate in to see Malcolm Anderson. Nate opened the door to see his mentor lying on the bed with tubes and wires running in and out of his body. "Hey kid, how's life outside that door?"

"Just like Hobbes said; nasty, brutish and short." Nate replied and the two men chuckled.

"All these years and you still remember that first lecture?" Malcolm questioned. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You always were my best student. Listen to me, Nathan and listen as well as you did all those years ago, my boy. You're the best in the game, bar none but don't let your work be your life. Let it reflect your life. You're a good man, much better than the twenty-one year-old who first walked into my classroom. While in many ways, you're still the same. The same sense of humour, the same density with the opposite sex. None of that is why I called you in here. You're strong, Nathan. Be strong for Veronica and Stacy, they'll need you." Malcolm reached out and grasped the younger man's hand.

"I will." Nate promised.

"Now, would you send Veronica back in? I may wish to die in peace but I surely do not wish to die alone." Malcolm smiled weakly and sent Nate out of the room. Nate walked out of the room slowly and with heavy breaths, he turned toward Mac with tears in his eyes, he bit his lip and nodded.

"He…uh…he wants to see you, Ronnie." Nate stuttered slightly. Mrs. Anderson lightly touched Nate's shoulder before heading into the hospital room. Once she was inside, Nate collapsed into Mac's arms. "It's never easy, Mac. It's like Preston all over again, watching someone die and knowing there's nothing you can do to stop it." He cried into her shoulder.

Mac hushed him and slowly ran her fingers over the back of his head. The two of them sat like that for well over an hour as the action around them seemed to stop. The President's staff slowly filled the corridor. After a few hours, the doctor came by and entered Malcolm's room, emerging moments later with Veronica Anderson by his side. "Time of death was 1:34 am." The Doctor stated solemnly.

"Thank you, doctor." Nate nodded and composed himself. "When's Stacy expected in?" Nate turned toward Ronnie.

"Inside the hour, Nathan. Do……do you think you could talk with her. She always was so fond of you." Ronnie Anderson asked, pleading with the young man whom her now late husband saw as a son.

"I will, absolutely, Ronnie." Nate nodded slowly. Nate was tapped on the shoulder by Gavin Ahrens only a few seconds later. Nate walked back over toward where the President, Vice President and Chief Justice of the Supreme Court were standing.

"Alright, without Anderson, we have no Secretary of State. Which is bad because with the way of the world now, we definitely need a fully functioning State Department that is active in the War on Terror." President Russell started.

"For God's sake, Andrew, Malcolm's not even cold." Nate reeled back with a bad taste in his mouth.

"We need to be on top of things, Nathan, we're talking about lives that hang in the balance with every decision we make." The Vice President charged.

"The laws governing succession state that the Deputy Secretary of State takes over when a Secretary is unable to perform their duties." The Chief Justice added.

"The problem here being that since Paul Williams' car crash earlier this year, we have no Deputy Secretary either." Gavin huffed.

"Nathan?" The President turned toward Nate.

"You want me to be the Acting Secretary of State?" Nate was incredulous.

"It makes sense, Nate. No one's more qualified then you are. You've got the languages and the expertise in the Middle East which is our hot region right now. You've got massive clout with Democrats and your service in the Marine Corps gives you credibility with the Republicans. Plus, after Faraz, you've got a national profile." Gavin chirped in.

"Doesn't change the fact that I'm a Democrat and this is a Republican administration, gentlemen." Nate reminded everyone.

"Inessential. We would be governing in the national interest instead of in a partisan way." The President argued. Nate paused for a second and raised his hand to his chin.

"Only interim, we all know that I'm not ready to be the Secretary of State. I can't do this on a permanent basis." Nate admitted.

"I don't think you give yourself enough credit, Nate." Gavin commented. "Alright, we've got our Acting Secretary of State, now, when do we go on the air with the announcement?

"We don't. My condition for taking the job is based on the fact that I'm able to tell Malcolm's daughter in person first. They don't hear about it until she does." Nate interjected.

"We can't hold off much longer. The press is already here, they want to know why the President is visiting the hospital. If Stacy Anderson doesn't get here by five o'clock this morning, we have to go ahead with the announcement. Not everything can wait for his Democratic conscience." The Vice President indicated Nate.

"It's not conscience, it's called human decency. I'd ask you to understand but that would imply you were actually human." Nate jibed and the President got between them.

"Gentlemen, we should hold off until five anyway. Give the country something to wake up to, allow us to get some rest and allow the family to start grieving. We can't act too early on this but we have to leave the country with the impression that we have everything under control." The President intervened on the behalf on intelligent conversation.

"Nate!" A female voice called from the other end of the hallway. Nate turned to see the familiar face of Stacy Anderson. Stacy was a young woman in her late twenties with long flowing golden blonde hair. She ran towards Nate who collected her in his arms and let her weep. Her mother had told her the truth. That her father had died an hour earlier.

"I can't believe I didn't get to see him one last time." Stacy pouted into Nate's shoulder. Nate hushed her.

"Be grateful for the time you had together." Nate whispered into her ear. "Remember, I blamed myself for Preston's death for years. It didn't help me deal with it. We should not seek blame in death but only solace that one whom we loved now enjoys paradise." He was quoting Bev on this one.

"You really believe that?" Stacy sniffled slightly and looked up at his eyes.

"My sister's a minister, I kind of have to." Nate joked before hugging Stacy tightly again. After a few hours consoling Ronnie and Stacy, the President decided that the time had come to make the announcement. Nate walked over to Mac to update her on all that was going on. Mac nodded supportively and hugged her friend as he stepped out to face the press with the President.

"I have a statement which I would like to make at this time." The President stated, then brought his glasses up to rest on his nose. "Yesterday afternoon, Secretary of State Malcolm Anderson was brought here to Mercy Hospital to be treated for a wide range of symptoms. It was discovered later that Secretary Anderson was suffering from a sudden onset of Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia, which doctors estimate he had been suffering from, unknowingly for several years. Secretary Anderson died at 1:34 last night. Malcolm was an essential part of this administration and he will be dearly missed. I'm sure I speak for the entire nation when I say that our prayers are with his wife and daughter. As many of you are I'm sure aware, the State Department has been without a Deputy Secretary since earlier this year when Paul Williams was severely injured in a car accident. As a result, at 4:23 this morning, the Chief Justice swore in Nathan Ross as the Acting Secretary of State. Thank you, that is all for today." The President was whisked away form the cameras by his security detail, leaving a long line of questions in his wake.

1346 ZULU

ANDERSON HOME

GREAT FALLS, VIRGINIA

"Thank you for taking us home, Nathan. I don't want you to think you're obliged to remain here. You're a very important man now. Malcolm would be very proud of you." Ronnie cupped his cheek maternally. "I'll go make tea, dear. Would you like some?"

"Sure, Mrs. Anderson." Nate nodded.

"I'll help you, Mrs. Anderson." Mac rushed into the kitchen. This left Nate and Stacy in the family room sitting on the couch.

"She's very pretty, Mr. Secretary." Stacy toyed lightly.

"She certainly is." Nate nodded. "I can't believe I'm the Secretary of State."

"_Acting_ Secretary." Stacy corrected. "Nate, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, Stacy." Nate pursed his lips.

"Was I special?" Stacy asked. Neither of them was aware that Mac was standing around the corner.

"In every conceivable way, you were the most special. What happened between us was based on trust and a mutual admiration for each other. Don't ever doubt how special you really are to me, Stacy." Nate assured, taking her hands in his.

"What about this 'Mac' is she the one for you? The next Mrs. Ross? You seem to be fighting an attraction to her from what I've observed." Stacy commented.

"Mac is the most extraordinary person I've met in a long time. I can't help but admire her but the situation with Mac is too complicated for words right now. I can't let myself love her romantically……at least not until I'm sure of quite a few more things then I am right now." Nate reflected.

Mac was taken aback. It wasn't an admission of love, well, not quite. What was standing in the way was the same obstacle that would always be in the way. Harmon Rabb. Harm's presence was always there, preventing them from getting too close. After all, what else could Nate be talking about when he said that there were things he was unsure of?

"Four years and no one ever knew that we did." Nate reflected. "I've always felt bad for leaving it like we did after that night. You deserved so much more from me."

"I took all you could have given me. Neither of us was ready to face the world with someone else yet. You made me feel cherished and that was all I could ask from you; every time you touched me you were so loving and so caring and so tender that without needing to tell me, you showed me how much I meant to you." Stacy took his hands.

"We never really talked about it before and now we talk about it as though it's merely a memory." Nate looked up at her.

"It is, it's a very good memory but that's all it is. One night where something of ourselves got lost in the other. You went back to Washington." Stacy's voice lowered.

"And you left for New York." Nate added.

"Leaving Philadelphia somewhere in the middle." She waxed poetic. "Go home, Nate, take Mac with you, I can take care of my mom. Find your future, my dad always knew that you would be great, he was right." Stacy let go of his hands.

"He was a great man." Nate got up from the couch.

"Made greater by those around him." Stacy lightly stroked Nate's arm as he rose and let him leave the room. Nate ran into Mac on the other side of the archway between the room and the hallway.

"You want to go home? You look beat." Nate asked.

"Yeah, let's go." Mac tugged on his sleeve and the two of them left the house. Mac wondered silently if Nate was considering what she had overheard. What if was becoming a permanent fixture when it came to him anyway.

1557 ZULU

THE PENTAGON

ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA

Harm and Mike stood with the President and his Chief of Staff in the Three Wise Men offices. "With Nathan Ross' temporary promotion, this project will be put on hiatus until his replacement is chosen and has had time to catch up with the rhythm of this office. For the next two weeks, Mr. Bradley, you will be back at Langley and Mr. Rabb you will be back under AJ Chegwidden's command. At the end of that two week period, you will return here and assume your regular duties. Is that clear?" The President asked.

"Yes, sir." The two men replied.

"Good, you may go. Take today but report at your temporary stations first thing tomorrow." The President tossed them a flippant wave and they ran off.

THE NEXT DAY

JAG HEADQUARTERS

FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

"Lieutenant, can you tell me where I might find Colonel MacKenzie's office, we were supposed to have lunch?" Beverly Ross addressed Harriet. Harriet had been apprised of Mac's plan for setting up the Admiral. With Tiner out for the day, Harriet was pulling double duty as the Admiral's yeoman.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, Colonel MacKenzie will be delayed in court for a few minutes. You're more then welcomed to wait in her office." Harriet pointed over toward Mac's office.

"Would there be anything for me to read while I wait, Lieutenant?" Beverly asked. There it was. Mac was right, Beverly Ross wasn't the kind to just sit idly and like her brother she was just academic enough to prefer reading to that. This was where the plan kicked in.

"Yes, ma'am the Admiral should have something in his office." Harriet directed Beverly over toward the Admiral's office. Bev knocked and the Admiral bellowed 'enter!' Bev cautiously opened the door and walked in.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Admiral. I was just waiting for Colonel MacKenzie to get out of court and I asked your yeoman if there was anything to read. She suggested that I ask you if I might borrow one of your books for the time being." Bev explained. The Admiral looked up from his desk slightly awestruck. This woman was in her late thirties or early forties. She was tall and graceful with an inherent delicacy.

"Uh……yeah, feel free." The Admiral answered and watched as the woman perused his books. Beverly Ross reached up among the top shelves to reach for a book that caught her eye. "Here, let me help you with that." The Admiral got up from behind his desk and walked over to help Beverly. Their hands met as they both reached for the book. The atmosphere crackled around them with offsets of electricity. "Plays of George Bernard Shaw? You intend on reading this while you wait for the Colonel?"

"Starting it." Beverly chuckled nervously and tucked her hair in behind her ear.

"I tend to prefer Shakespeare." The Admiral commented in a light-hearted way.

"Don't let my brother here you say that, he's nuts about Irish literature." The two of them were by now only millimetres apart.

"When God made the Irish he made them very mad. For all their wars are happy and all their songs are sad." The Admiral quipped.

"Chesterton, I'm impressed." Bev chortled. The two of them started talking and laughing together. Bev forgot all about the plays of George Bernard Shaw.

Mac came out of the elevator and walked across the bullpen into her office. She was just going to drop off a few things before heading out to lunch with Bev. She threw herself into her chair for a few seconds of relaxation before heading out when what had started out as a good day, looked like it was about to go south in a hurry.

"Hello, Sarah." A familiar accented voice greeted. Mac closed her eyes and willed away the man she knew that she would see if she looked up. "Time for lunch with an old friend or has Rabb got you on a pretty tight leash these days." The voice joked.

"Hi, Mic." Mac raised her head to face the Aussie. "What are you doing in town?" Mac was making a grasping attempt at being polite.

"I had to square up some legal dispute with Commander Turner. Seems a few Yanks got in a brawl with a few of my boys while they were on liberty in Sydney." Mic explained. "So, how about that lunch."

"Actually, I was just heading out to lunch with someone." Mac answered.

"Rabb?" Mic replied.

"No, uh, someone else." Mac was grateful that had a way out of this situation and her saving grace came when the two men who represented the Secret Service security detail for the Secretary of State began to walk into the JAG bullpen. "Nathan!" proclaimed as she walked into the bullpen and launched herself into Nate's arms, kissing him on the cheek.

"Mac, what's going on?" Nate whispered quickly.

"Just play along." She replied. "Ready for lunch?" She asked, this time at a normal volume.

"Absolutely. I never thought running the State Department was so intensive." Nate tossed a crooked smile Mac's way.

"You're the Secretary of State." Mic recovered from the initial shock.

"Yes, and who might you be?" Nate replied.

"Honey, I told you about Mic." Mac had her arm around Nate's waist.

"Ah yes, Mr. Dumby." Nate nodded in apprehension.

"Brumby." Mic replied, unamused by Nate's little diction mistake.

"Of course. Well, nice to meet you.." Nate offered his hand and Mic shook it forcefully. Not to be swayed, Nate poured all the Marine that was in him into his half of the handshake. Eventually Mic relented.

"You've done well for yourself, Sarah." Mic stated, trying to maintain some air of dignity.

"I know." Mac shamelessly brought her hand up to Nate's chest. Mic skulked off toward the elevator. "How badly do I owe you for that?" Mac whispered quietly.

"I think a few massages should cover it." Nate replied, trying to hide the devilish smile that was peeking up on his face.

"You don't come cheap." Mac joked as the two of them headed over toward Harriet.

"I'm the Secretary of State, a high maintenance boy-toy, my rates have to be higher." Nate joked as they approached Harriet.

"Ma'am, Ms. Ross is in with the Admiral, she went in to get a book but that was almost a half hour ago?" Harriet and Mac exchanged knowing smiles and winks.

"Ms. Ross?" Nate questioned aloud. Mac merely walked toward the Admiral's office. "Mac, what are you planning?" Nate called after her and chased after her toward the Admiral's office. Mac noticed the door was open and poked her head into the Admiral's office to find the Admiral and Beverly Ross in the midst of a quick kiss.

"Sorry, I'm interrupting, sir." Mac said, not wanting to interrupt the moment. Bev and the Admiral broke away quickly.

"Mac, I just came in here to get a book and…" Bev started. "Never mind, are we going to lunch now?"

"Sorry for keeping you waiting, Bev. When Admiral Morris gets going, you can't shut him down if you try." Mac explained with a light chuckle.

"That's perfectly fine, Mac." Bev got up and walked toward the door.

"Admiral, sir, if you'd like to join us?" Mac invited.

"No, Colonel, that's fine, I wouldn't want to be a third wheel." The Admiral quickly answered.

"You wouldn't be." Nate pushed the door open wider so that he could step out from behind it.

"Afternoon, Mr. Secretary." The Admiral offered, seeing Nate standing in the doorway.

"AJ, come along for lunch because if you don't, I'll never hear the end of it. So, I'm begging you, please spare me my sanity." Nate cajoled.

"Alright, I'm in." The Admiral headed over to the door and out to lunch with Beverly, Mac, Nate and his security detail.

When Harm stepped into JAG that day, the rumours were swirling about the incident at lunch. Harm being Harm, got curious even though he tried to dismiss what he was hearing as being mere scuttlebutt. Her figured he should probably check in with Sturgis anyway.

"Hey buddy, I'm hearing some weird rumours over the grapevine. Someone said that Mic Brumby was in here and something about Mac kissing Nate?" Harm had to chuckle a little as he sat down in Sturgis' office.

"Well, Brumby was in here earlier. I now understand why you weren't particularly fond of him, the man is annoying as all hell. Yeah, I think he tried to take Mac out but then the Secretary of State showed up and Mac played him up as her boyfriend in an attempt to get Brumby to shove off. At least that's what it looked like to me." Sturgis replied, believing that his friend had earned the truth.

"What happened after that?" Harm inquired.

"Mac, Nate, the Admiral and this woman Mac was trying to set up with the Admiral, all went out to lunch." Sturgis answered.

"Mac is trying to set up the Admiral? Talk about playing with fire." Harm laughed.

"You don't mind that Mac played up Nate as her boyfriend." Sturgis was slightly puzzled.

"To get rid of Brumby, she could play up Nate as _my_ boyfriend." Harm joked and got up out of Sturgis' office.

1503 ZULU

BETHESDA NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER

BETHESDA, MARYLAND

"Alright, Mr. Secretary, you're making progress. Why don't you rest for a few moments while I go and get the ball for our next exercise?" The nurse was way too cheery for 10am on a Saturday morning. Nate was in the middle of the Physical Therapy to get his knee back into working order. He threw himself down on the hard blue gym mat on the ground next to another man who seemed to be going through similar experiences with the PT staff.

"You're him, aren't you, sir?" The Hispanic man asked.

"I'm who, Marine?" Nate asked, noticing the USMC t-shirt.

"The Secretary of State, sir." The Marine offered his answer.

"Nathan Ross, and who would you be?" Nate shook the Marine's hand.

"Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez, sir." Gunny replied.

"What happened to your knee, Gunny?" Nate asked point at the brace on Gunny's.

"It looks like the same injury as you, sir. I got mine by being tossed from humvee after a mine exploded on a road a few miles north of Kabul." Gunny explained, wincing slightly as he extended his leg. "How'd you screw up your knee?"

"Protecting a Marine." Nate answered.

"In combat?" Gunny asked.

"A drive-by shooting outside of a Washington theatre." Nate explained. "I landed on the knee wrong. Tore the ACL."

"I landed wrong too, tore the same ligament." Gunny started to gently rub his leg. "Not as young as I used to be."

"None of us are." Nate chuckled.

"Going back to an old duty station of mine for a while until my knee's healed up. Doctors say it could be a year before I can go back to an infantry unit." Gunny leaned back on his elbows.

"From what I remember of my days with the 1st MEF during the Gulf, an infantry unit isn't a place I would be too all-fired to head back to." Nate yawned.

"You were a Marine, sir?" Gunny was taken by surprise.

"An officer in the Sniper Corps, Gunny." Nate nodded and the Gunny smiled.

"Good to know that there's someone running the store with a little Semper Fi in them, sir." Gunny chuckled.

"You wanna grab a beer after PT, Gunny?" Nate asked.

"I'd be a fool to turn down a beer with the Secretary of State, sir." Gunny answered.

"You're right, you would be a fool. But you'd still be a Marine so God would forgive you anyway." Nate replied and the two men shared a laugh before having to continue on with their PT.


	15. For Every Storm, A Rainbow

_A/N: Here's a nice, pleasant, angst free chapter that should wrap up some loose ends from the first half of the story and lead into the second half._

_Disclaimer: Never done one of these. You know the deal. No JAG characters are ours. Nate, Peach, Spinner, Morley and Mike however are. But if Don wants to make us an offer to give them a series, we're obviously listening. _

"Alright, folks, we have some pretty big staff changes here in the last week. First, as I'm sure you're aware by now; Lieutenant Commander Austin has transferred out and is currently stationed with the NATO office in London. We wish her the best. Of course this has left a void in the senior staff, which is why as of today we're welcoming Lieutenant Commander Tracy Manetti to our office." The Admiral stopped and motioned toward the new face at the table. "Commander Manetti, you'll be partnered with Commander Turner for the time being. Secondly, for the next two weeks, Captain Rabb will be TAD to this office until his assignment at the Pentagon has completed it's staff transition period. Finally, we're welcoming back Gunnery Sergeant Galindez who's fresh off a tour in Afghanistan where the Gunny received a Purple Heart for his actions in combat."

"Sir, where will the Captain and the Commander be given office space during there time here?" Singer asked, obviously concerned with being shifted out of her office.

"Well, since Commander Manetti will be here longer term, she will take Commander Austin's old office and since the Captain is only here for two weeks, I think you could be gracious enough to surrender your office to him for the time being." The Admiral tried to hide his chuckle at the young Lieutenant's defeated expression. "Alright, Captain Rabb you and Colonel MacKenzie are to be assigned this case on the Eisenhower. There have been assault reports filed to the skipper about incidents of sexual assault of three females onboard ship. I trust you two will get to the bottom of it."

"Aye, sir." Mac answered.

"Aye, sir." Harm added for his part. Oh yeah, this was going to be an interesting assignment.

1629 ZULU

HARRY TRUMAN BUILDING

FOGGY BOTTOM, WASHINGTON DC

"Alright, Peach, I'm here to brief you on your new assignment, since you'll be taking over for me on the Three Wise Men project." Nate walked into Peach's office. The benefit of being the Secretary of State was that you could show up anywhere in the offices of the State Department and no one would say boo.

"Yes, Mr. Secretary." Peach replied in an almost mechanical tone.

"Don't 'Mr. Secretary' me, Peach. Just treat me like you always used to, I don't understand why we can't get along." Nate offered, completely deviating from the original business at hand.

"We can't get along because we don't talk like we used to. We haven't been able to for a while because we analyze everything we do to death. There was a time when we just took everything at face value." Peach explained.

"Fine, so no more analyzing. Just Nate and Peach like we used to be?" Nate offered.

"That might be a little tough with you fourth in line to the Presidency." Peach giggled. "SuperNate, able to leap tall diplomats in a single side-step." She joked and the two of them laughed.

"Wasn't this the point where I'd normally make some completely inappropriate comment about how you look that anyone else would slap me for?" Nate asked mockingly.

"Yeah, that sounds about right." Peach smiled slightly.

"That sweater does wonders for your chest." Nate came back with his comment and the two of them laughed again.

"Really? I was worried that it might be a little too slutty with the neckline and all." Peach toyed.

"Nah." Nate smiled as he threw himself down in a chair in Peach's office. "You still keep up on the Farsi and Arabic that I taught you?"

"I've been trying since 9/11. I can't promise that it's going to be perfect but it will be functional. I trust I can still call you if I'm having problems with the Hebrew or Russian?" Peach answered as the two of them got down to official matters.

"Absolutely. This project has been bounced around several times. It was originally under Morton but he got sent back to SOCOM control in Tampa. Then it was suggested that it be run out of the White House but that raised too many command issues. So, the DCI, the CNO and myself will supervise the project. Feel free to call me at any time if you guys need help."

"Always Nathan Ross to the rescue, huh?" Peach giggled again.

"Hey, someone's got to where the red cape and big red 'S' on his chest." Nate joked as the two of them started to work out the details of Peach's new job.

1853 ZULU

ST. ANDREW'S CHURCH

CRYSTAL CITY, VIRGINIA

"Reverend Ross, ma'am?" Bev's secretary poked her head in the door.

"Yes, Mrs. Heaney?" Bev looked up at her receptionist.

"Admiral Chegwidden is here to see you, Reverend." Mrs. Heaney eyed her pastor.

"Thank you, Mrs. Heaney, send him in." Bev was very evidently smiling. A few seconds later, Admiral Chegwidden walked into Beverly's office and took a seat opposite her.

"I figured I should bring this to read while I'm waiting." The Admiral held up his copy of the Plays of George Bernard Shaw.

"I'm sorry, AJ, it's just this sermon. I'm having a little trouble getting through it." Bev explained, idly tapping her pen on the legal pad in front of her.

"It's okay; I've got Tiner covering for me and Turner's in charge until I get back." The Admiral explained. "You know what they say, rank hath its privilege."

"I know, I grew up with top Marine Corps brass, remember?" Bev laughed lightly.

"You're never going to let me forget it. After all these years, I start dating a Marine Corps brat. What would the guys on my old SEAL team say?" AJ played with a smile.

"That you should take this pretty little Marine Corps brat to lunch because there's no way I'm going to be able to concentrate long enough to get this sermon written, not with you sitting there." Bev was being openly flirtatious.

"Good distraction or bad distraction?" The Admiral asked.

"Oh, very good distraction." Bev replied as the Admiral took her by the arm and led her out the door.

2051 ZULU

USS DWIGHT D EISENHOWER

SOMEWHERE IN THE ATLANTIC

"So, what did you think of the Lieutenant's story?" Harm came walking out on to Vulture's Row where Mac was already standing.

"I think he was telling the truth. His body language was telling of a man who couldn't lie his way out of a plastic bag." Mac chuckled a little. "It's been and interesting first half of the year hasn't it?"

"Interesting to the point of being damn tragic." Harm shook his head and leaned on the railing next to Mac. "So, what do we do now?"

"About the case or about our friendship?" Mac returned, turning her face toward him.

"Either or both." Harm replied.

"We talk." Mac answered simply.

"Seems to me, like talking is what got us where we are right now." Harm quipped.

"True, we're lawyers, if we can't talk our way out of a situation, we should find new professions." Mac's tone was self-deprecating.

"How about relationship counsellors?" Harm asked and the two of them shared a laugh. "You're right, we should talk."

"Say that again." Mac demanded.

"We should talk?" Harm inquired.

"No, before that." Mac rotated her finger indicating that Harm should rewind.

"You're right." Harm stated remembering what he had earlier said.

"Good, I wasn't hearing things." Mac joked and even Harm had to laugh.

"It's good to joke with you again." Harm admitted. "Mac, I've said a lot of really stupid things this year. So, if I could, I'd like to offer a blanket apology."

"Accepted, apologizing isn't a sign of weakness it's a sign of caring. Our problem is that we think that caring is weakness." Mac pinpointed.

"I think you've been spending too much time with Nate's shrink mother." Harm joked.

"His Minister Sister, actually." Mac stated.

"You mean the one that's dating the Admiral?" Harm raised his eyebrows in suspicion.

"That's the one. I'm happy she's dating him. The Admiral needed someone who could understand him but could also be a modern woman. Bev's a military brat, who holds a job in a predominately male field and she's got the Admiral's flare for literature." Mac was cheery about her little fix up.

"Of course you're rooting for them, you set them up." Harm pointed out.

"That's not true, I think they're good for each other." Mac retorted. She watched as Harm's hand brushed against the front pocket of his summer white pants. His eyebrows took on a weird, flummoxed look. He then dug into his pocket and came out with a rank insignia. "Why do you have a Chief Petty Officer's rank insignia?"

"That's right, I found it on the floor of Lieutenant Norton's quarters." Harm examined the anchor in his hand.

"Wasn't she the one who struggled with the suspected assailant?" Mac asked.

"Yeah, wait, Mac, you think she might have torn this off his collar?" Harm flipped over the anchor and saw that a piece of cloth was caught in the cluster at the back.

"I'd say that's a pretty good guess." Mac commented. "But who would be able to walk around without an insignia and not raise suspicion?" Mac watched as Harm thought for a second before understanding dawned on his eyes.

"A member of the flight crew, especially in summer. Their summer dress was sleeve insignia so they wouldn't need the cluster and when they're on the flight deck they wouldn't need it anyway. Since Lieutenant Norton's assault was before the switch over in seasonal uniform, it's the only logical solution." Harm explained.

"I think we have to revisit Command Master Chief Malone." Mac headed back through the hatch with Harm hot on her heels.

0134 ZULU

HARRY TRUMAN BUILDING

FOGGY BOTTOM, WASHINGTON DC

"Nate, you can tell me about this for another seven hours, but nothing is going to change. You and I don't run the same kind of schedule or manage a staff similarly. So it's all going to go down a little differently under my watch. I should have taught you how to decentralize your authority, I can't believe you didn't burn yourself out with the hours that you must have worked trying to get all this work done." Peach leaned back in the chair. "Can we talk about something else."

"I'm doing Larry King in two weeks." Nate changed the subject.

"Talk about your random topic changes." Peach quipped. "Knowing you, it's got you through a loop."

"Now, just what does that mean?" Nate tried to sound offended.

"Well, come on Nate, you've got control issues and you have no idea at all what Larry's going to ask you. You're probably driving yourself nuts wondering what you're going to be asked." Peach stated with a laugh.

"I am not!" Nate protested.

"You so are. You probably even have little cue cards made up at your apartment so that you can practice what you're going to say." Peach was now on a roll.

"Okay, give me a little credit, even I'm not that compulsive." Nate rolled his eyes.

"Now, what has you so up in knots?" Peach was taking it upon herself to coach Nate out of his shell again.

"Nothing professional. I mean, I can handle questions about my career or our relations with other countries, it's just personal questions that have me a little hogtied." Nate admitted.

"What could Larry possibly say?" Peach was unused to seeing Nate so nervous. Most of the time he was negotiator with a stone face that could match the guys on Easter Island but right now, he looked like he was sweating bullets.

"I'm a thirty-six year-old, single, apartment dwelling guy who's fourth in line of succession to the President of the United States. I'm sure that I'm going to have to answer questions about why I'm still single and stuff like that. You know that I'm a private person." Nate was starting to ramble.

"Just calm down, it's not the end of the world if you have to answer a few questions about your personal life. Just be non-committal, you're a man, that should come naturally to you." Peach joked light-heartedly.

"Oh, you're so funny." Nate dragged out the words in a sarcastic tone. "You're probably one of the few people in America that gets away with ragging on the senior cabinet member."

"You know that your General father, psychiatrist mother and minister sister would all get away with it, too?" Peach giggled again at the end of her sentence.

"Since when do you giggle?" Nate questioned.

"Maybe I always have and you just never paid attention." Peach commented.

"Are you calling me inattentive?" Nate pushed his questioning.

"When it comes to certain things, I believe that you subconsciously turn a blind eye, yes." Peach explained.

"I think with all the psycho-babble you just threw around, you're talking to my mother too much." Nate rebutted.

"Moot point. You may be a body language expert, Nathan Ross, but sometimes you're as blind as a bat, with the attention span of a hummingbird." Peach was smiling slightly.

"Thank you for that foray into the Animal Kingdom. I think the real question here is why you just called me Nathan." Nate pointed out, putting Peach on the defensive.

"I didn't!" Peach was evangelic in her protestation.

"Yes you did, and I want to know why." Nate retorted, not letting her skirt the issue.

"I guess some times you just seem more like a Nathan than a Nate. Like when you're being all Secretary of State or, you know when you need to be lectured or you know, when you're acting all lovery, I'm sure." Peach stuttered over the last half of the sentence.

"Lovery?" Nate questioned her word.

"Yeah, alright, what did Petra call you when you two were……you know?" Peach hesitated with the question.

"Well, she called me 'God' a few times." Nate turned his eyes up as though he was reflecting.

"Just what you need, a bigger ego." Peach joked.

"Actually, you're right, she called me Nathan." Nate informed his friend.

"See, there are times when you're more of a Nathan then a Nate. I'm sure there are times when I'm more Nicole then Peach." Peach cajoled.

"Yeah, like when you wear anything formal." Nate gave as an example. "Then again, there are times when you're 'Nicky' like when all your Stanford gal pals decide to visit you for a weekend."

"I knew, I'd never live that down." Peach hung her head in her hands. "It's good to be back to the status quo."

"Yeah, it really is." Nate affirmed. Unbeknownst to the other, they were both wondering just how long the status quo would last this time before blowing up in their faces.

2211 ZULU

JAG HEADQUARTERS

FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

"Well, you two did it, again. I'd give just about anything to know how you two can fall back into stride with one another so easily. I mean, you caught Chief Creegan using nothing but a CPO's rank insignia as a starting point." Sturgis shook his head.

"Nothing to it, no it if you know what you're doing." Mac jousted with the other senior staffer.

"If you'll recall, I was the one who found the rank insignia, Colonel." Harm defended his place in the investigation.

"Yeah, but you're going back to the Pentagon next week and someone's going to have to be around here to take the credit with you gone." Mac tossed back.

"Always ready with a snappy comeback, aren't you, Colonel?" Harm inquired.

"I'm on the ball, Captain, after all these years, you'd think you would know that." Mac smiled before heading back toward her office.

"Well, looks like you're back in the saddle, buddy." Sturgis gave Harm a pat on the back.

"JAG's a lot like a bicycle, Sturgis. You never really lose the touch." Harm quipped.

"Harm, if you think I was talking about JAG, you really have gotten denser since our Academy days." Sturgis joked before heading back across the bullpen.

"Captain Rabb, my office." The Admiral came walking across the bullpen from the elevator. Harm followed the Admiral into his office. Tiner closed the door behind the two men. "I can't believe that the investigation on the Eisenhower took as long as it did, Captain."

"Well, sir, for the first few days, the Colonel and I couldn't really get any leads. After finding that insignia, the case did kind of open up for us, sir." Harm explained himself.

"At the trial this week, you proved that you were in top form, Captain. You'll be headed back to the Pentagon as scheduled next week. Secretary Ross has found and informed a suitable replacement for his role on the team." The Admiral informed Harm.

"Well, the Secretary will be sorely missed, sir." Harm nodded quickly.

"I'm sure he will. I've been directed by Secretary Ross to inform you that you're working with Nicole DiPiccio starting next week. With the new command structure overseeing the project, the Secretary assures me that he will be constantly aware of the progress being made by your team." The Admiral furthered informed Harm.

"Knowing the Secretary as I do, sir, I wouldn't have expected anything else." Harm couldn't help but chuckle at a few of Nate's tendencies.

"Good, now I suggest that you have a pleasant, carefree weekend, Captain. I've been told that you're going to be thrown back into the thick of it come Monday." The Admiral dismissed Harm. Harm did an about face and headed out of the office just as Tiner buzzed the Admiral.

"Admiral, sir, Reverend Ross is out here, sir." Tiner stated.

"Send her in, Tiner." The Admiral responded through the intercom as her got out from behind his desk. Scant few seconds later, Beverly Ross was walking through the door of AJ Chegwidden's office.

"Hey, honey." Bev said as she hugged AJ and kissed him quickly on the lips.

"Hey, what brings you by?" The Admiral sounded pleasantly surprised.

"Well, one of my parishioners dropped off a few tickets to the Washington Shakespeare Company's performance of _Much Ado About Nothing_ tonight. I also made reservations at that new little French place in Foggy Bottom. I wanted to surprise you." Bev smiled sweetly.

"I didn't know you were going to go to all this trouble." The Admiral took her by the hands.

"Hence the surprise." Bev retorted.

"How did you get reservations at that restaurant anyway? I hear that they're booked up through New Year's." AJ was slightly perplexed by his girlfriend's resourcefulness.

"I got my little brother to make a call." Bev stated with sly grin.

"When in doubt, call in the political big gun." AJ quipped and the two of them laughed. "Is he…okay with us?"

"Nathan? He's fine, a little protective but that's to be expected of a brother. He's even keeping my father at bay for the time being." Bev answered working herself more into AJ's arms.

"Ah yes, the Commandant, I'd forgotten all about that. I'll have to do something nice for your brother if he's going to keep the Commandant away for the time being." AJ joked.

"Don't worry about it. Now, come on, we've got a big night ahead of us." Bev interlocked her fingers with AJ's. The two of them walked out of the Admiral's office and out into the bullpen. They said goodnight to a few of the people that they passed on their way to the elevator.

"I think you really struck gold when you set up those two, ma'am." Harriet said to Mac. "Reverend Ross is really nice. She kind of reminds me of that really cool mom in the neighbourhood who used to make cookies and lemonade for all the kids."

"She does have that wholesome quality doesn't she? And I know, Bev, her traditional values are just the kind of thing that the Admiral would like." Mac and Harriet continued their little gossip session.

"You still want to go hunting for that house with Bud out at sea?" Mac asked.

"Yes, ma'am. I know that our family's only going to grow and we need a house but if I left it up to Bud, we'd never get to it." Harriet smiled widely. The two women walked out of JAG toward the elevators.

"So, what do you say, buddy? One on one tonight and a beer afterward with your little brother?" Sturgis asked as he hung around in Harm's doorway.

"You're on, hasn't Bobbi got you on a tight leash these days?" Harm joked.

"Not really, but she does seem to be checking into me at work more often since I ended up having a female partner." Sturgis remarked curiously.

"How is Manetti anyway?" Harm asked, not having had a chance to work with the young Lieutenant Commander.

"Intelligent, yet curiously humble." Sturgis remarked.

"No wonder you two get along." Harm laughed and flicked off the lights in his office as he and Sturgis headed out of JAG.

NEXT THURSDAY

THREE WISE MEN OFFICES, PENTAGON

ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA

Peach was hunched over a desk. Her glasses propped up lightly on her nose and one hand in her hair as her gaze drifted from the TV to the papers in front of her. She was watching Nate's appearance on Larry King in between working on a few intelligence sharing agreements with some strategically important Eastern European allies.

"You know, you work almost as hard as he did." Harm commented as he flicked the TV screen.

"Nate always was the hardest working man at the State Department." Peach commented absently.

"Yeah well, that and he thinks that he needs to handle everything personally or it won't get done." Harm walked back over to his desk. "I never thought this work could actually get this tedious." Harm tossed around the papers on his desk.

"You must have had to fill out paperwork as a lawyer, Harm. It can't be that much different." Peach turned in her chair to face Harm.

"The paperwork as a lawyer was tedious too, this is just more tedious because diplomats tend to think that the more words they can cram into a paragraph, the more official their end result is." Harm's tone was challenging.

"As opposed to lawyers who practice the world's oldest smoke and mirrors profession." Peach jousted at him.

"Ouch, you wound me. Not all lawyers are like the ambulance chasing shysters you see doing commercials on TV." Harm defended.

"You're right, the rest of you normally don't start blatantly lying until you become politicians." Peach was smiling as she put Harm on the defensive.

"Nate was right, you do have that certain fire that can be both endearing and infuriating." Harm admitted.

"Speaking of the devil, I think Larry's done with the professional questions. Let's watch the Secretary of State get caught in the crossfire of his personal life." Peach turned up the volume on the TV.

_"Nathan Ross, you're thirty-six, the Secretary of State and still single, I'm sure that a lot of Americans just don't understand that equation." _Larry began.

_"I think it's simple, Larry, I just haven't found the right woman yet."_ Nate jumped in.

_"Well, then that leads into the question that's been burning the Washington gossip rags for months. Two words. Sarah MacKenzie."_ Larry sure wasn't pulling any punches. Harm and Peach both felt their heart rates quicken at the question, awaiting Nate's answer.

_"An amazing and extraordinary woman and friend." _Nate replied somewhat cryptically.

_"So, there's nothing romantic between the two of you?_" Larry pushed the question.

_"Never has been, never will be." _Nate answered simply.

_"You also are known to be rather close to a few other attractive women, including ZNN's own Stacy Anderson." _ Larry changed targets but pursued the same avenue of thought.

_"Stacy and I are very close, we have been for more then a decade. I cherish her friendship very deeply._" Nate answered in a typical Potomac two-step.

_"Once again, just friends?"_ Larry questioned.

_"Just friends, Larry." _ Nate affirmed with a smile and nod.

_"You're also rumoured to be close to your ex co-worker at the State Department, Nicole DiPiccio. You two worked together for many years and brokered most of your most impressive negotiations jointly. Still, just friends?" _Larry was trying to get some personal fodder off of what was otherwise a boy scout resume.

_"Nicole and I have been friends, adversaries and everything in between in the years that we've known each other. We're friends, yes." _ Nate answered.

_"You'll have to excuse me, Mr. Secretary but I'm sure that a lot of Americans, myself included, are having trouble believing that you can be 'just friends' with these women." _ Larry had rested his chin on his palm.

_"I can hardly be blamed for what most Americans think. I can only be honest with them about the questions that I'm asked." _ Nate replied with a secure yet not arrogant smile.

_"Nathan Ross, trying to be the last honest man in Washington. We'll be back with your calls, right after this."_ Larry cut to a commercial and Peach flicked the TV off.

"He sure didn't go easy on him." Harm remarked.

"No, he certainly didn't but Nate was his usual constrained self. I'm not sure how many points it won him with the American people." Peach reflected.

"What do you mean?" Harm asked, sitting on the edge of her desk.

"The American people are looking for their New Camelot. Their royal family, as it were. The Ross Family fits the mould. A Marine Corps Commandant and one of the foremost feminists of the Women's Lib movement have a son who's got the necessary tools to lead the country. All Nate needs is the ideal First Lady and he could be President because no matter how well like he is, he'll never get elected single." Peach explained.

"I don't think his marital status plays that big a role." Harm commented.

"When was the last time America had a bachelor President?" Peach fired the question out. Harm went over the Presidents in his head and after a few minutes, he couldn't name a single one. "Exactly." Peach said in reference to his silence.

0419 ZULU

MAC'S APARTMENT

GEORGETOWN, DC

Nate hesitantly knocked on the door. He knew that he had been a little quick and shallow with his answers on the show earlier and that he might have some explaining to do, especially with Mac. Mac came to the door and opened it only a crack.

"Hi." She said timidly.

"Hey." He started. "Can I come in?"

"Why do you want to?" Mac asked, still a little weary.

"Perchance to explain?" Nate offered.

"What's there to explain. You stated your position pretty simply tonight on the show." Mac replied as she let him into the apartment.

"You told me not to assume, that's exactly what I did." Nate began his explanation.

"So you made a unilateral decision about the status of our relationship because I told you_ not_ to assume?" Mac's prosecutorial program was working on overdrive.

"Mac, I just stated a truth that we've both been shying away from. Neither of us wants to admit it, that's all. We both know that there can never be anything romantic between us because I'm not the one you belong with." Nate answered.

"After everything that's happened between me and Harm this year, how can you be so sure that we belong together?" Mac packed a lot of force and emotion into her question.

"Because you can't be sure that you don't. See if you two didn't belong together, there would be no doubt in your mind as to that effect. But that doubt still exists, reasonable doubt, Mac, you're a lawyer, you know what that means." Nate coached, slipping into a legalese metaphor.

"That I can't convict any potential for a relationship between Harm and I." Mac stated plainly. "You would have made a good lawyer."

"I'm a better diplomat. After all, I got you and Harm back to the bargaining table, didn't I?" Nate chuckled slightly.

"That remains to be seen." Mac played into the joke. "What was this between us then?"

"As I so often do in romantic situations, I'll quote Oscar Wilde. 'We were like two doomed ships that pass in a storm, we had crossed each other's way: but we made no sign, we said no word, we had no word to say.'" Nate paused for a second to let the gravity of the words sink in.

"That's all we were to each other? Two ships that crossed paths when life through a storm our way?" Mac asked as she stood by his side.

"We weathered it together, but now the storm is over and our paths must diverge. I hope we'll always be friends, Mac." Nate turned to go face to face with her.

"I wouldn't have it any other way. Believe that." Mac hugged him.

"I do, I really do." He hugged her back.


	16. Sixty Seconds Worth of Distance Run

_A/N: This is a necessary denouement kind of chapter that will serve as a calm before a very stormy story arch that will end Three Wise Men Season 2. It's going to be a long, action-packed road ahead, but it should be fun. Enjoy!_

It was another late afternoon at the Three Wise Men offices. CIA Special Agent Mike Bradley had his shoes kicked off to reveal a new pair of argyle socks propped up on his desk. "Mike, would you put those things away? They smell like rotten limburger cheese!" Peach protested, plugging her nose in a mocking gesture.

"Come on, guys we've still got the problem with the Provos in Afghanistan. Peach, are you greasing the diplomatic wheels with the British?" Harm asked, with Nate's departure, Harm was now the senior officer on the project.

"No such luck, the British are worried that Irish casualties would restart problems, especially in Derry and that's a risk that they're not willing to take." Peach explained with a heavy exhale.

"Did you tell them that British Army casualties at Irish hands would be even tougher to explain?" Harm shot back.

"They aren't listening. As it is, the '98 Good Friday Agreement created a fragile peace. Blair wouldn't shake that if his political life depended on it." Peach retorted.

"Mike, how are we coming on the bio-terrorism database?" Harm turned his focus.

"With the help of our big friend at the State Department, and those intelligence sharing agreements we worked on last week, we've been able to monitor most of the known labs capable of creating biological weapons. The problems occur with China and Iran. Both of them have facilities for the production of strains but neither of them are willing to help us out." Mike tossed Harm a two-hundred page database compilation.

"Of course it's not like we were expecting them to cooperate." Peach rubbed her eyes. "The Chinese have the facilities for super-strains and the Iranians have known black market ties and even with the Russians agreeing to help, their bureaucracy is so shoddy that if something went missing into the underground, it could be seventy-two hours before we knew."

"So, while we're safer then we were a month ago, we're still too vulnerable for the world's superpower?" Harm questioned rhetorically.

"Basically." Peach answered with a nod. "God, this has been the week from hell!" Peach lamented with a whining tone.

"You thinking Beach Blaster this weekend?' Mike asked looking over at Peach.

"Totally feeling that, think we can talk the Secretary into it?" Peach replied with a new light in her eyes.

"Have you ever known Nate to turn down two nights and a day of dancing, drinking, loud music, waterskiing and random hooking up?" Mike retorted.

"Good point." Peach chuckled.

"Excuse me, Beach Blaster?" Harm questioned, a little off kilter about being out of the loop.

"Oh God, Harm, you have to come, bring some of your friends too. They're basically weekends out at the Ross Cottage in Chincoteague where we do nothing but behave like we're in high school again. We do every conceivable thing. The whole weekend turns into a wild pagan bacchanal. People hook up, there's skinny dipping, loud music, Nate normally ends up talking to the cops about the noise or I flirt shamelessly until they join the party and forget about the noise violation, it's great!" Peach was riled up just thinking about it.

"It sounds like all that happens is that everyone throws their maturity out the window for a weekend." Harm chuckled.

"Come on, now, don't get all pretentious on us. Even Bev has come out to Chincoteague for a few of the Blasters, granted she still limits her fun to God appropriate doses. Hell, even Clayton Webb loosens up with us out at the shore on Blaster weekends." Mike added, Harm knew that Mike was goading him by just mentioning Clayton Webb but Harm couldn't very well let Webb upstage him on something like this.

"Alright, so what, I just call a bunch of people and we just show up late Friday night at the shore and party until we pass out in the wee hours of the next morning?" Harm questioned disbelievingly.

"Yeah, well, we have to call Nate and set everything up first. No one's ever been turned away from a Beach Blaster though." Peach hit the 'speakerphone' button and dialled the number for Nate's office.

"You got Nate." Nate answered in his typical fashion.

"Nate, it's Peach, how's your week been?" She questioned lightly awaiting a response.

"A scenic trip through Dante's Inferno. Yours?" Nate replied, even sound exasperated through the phone.

"The Purgatorio, so only slightly better. Mike and I were thinking Beach Blaster for this weekend, you think we can handle it?" Peach asked and she and Mike looked as though their very lives were staked upon his answer.

"Best idea I've heard all day! Mike you order the beer and get your usual crowd. I'll commandeer the helicopter that apparently comes with my new job and pick up some people to make sure that everything's set up for when it really starts jumping. Harm?" Nate, knowing he was on the speaker, fished for the third familiar voice.

"Yeah, buddy, what's up?" Harm hunched over the phone.

"Get Sergei and Mac and everyone up there alright, this is going to be a blast, we haven't done one of these in a long time. Peach, you in the mood to play hostess this weekend?" Nate asked.

"Oh totally, Leatherneck." Peach chuckled. "Finish your work, I'll meet you at Truman in an hour."

"Got it." Nate cut the line.

"Oh Leatherneck." Mike mimicked in a dreamy tone.

"Shut it, Spy guy." Peach tossed a pencil at him. "I'll call the regulars, Mike you get the alcohol and Harm, you call some people, this has got to be one hell of a weekend." All three of them picked up phones and started placing calls.

0246 ZULU

ROSS COTTAGE

CHINCOTEAGUE, VIRGINIA

Harm had managed to wrangle Mac, Sturgis, Sergei and Bobbi into coming to the party. Everyone walked up the walkway from the gravel driveway to the front door. The music could be heard from the road, Nate and Peach had evidently put up some Christmas lights in the house and the patio lanterns outside were covered in coloured tissue paper.

Harm rapped his knuckles on the wooden frame of the screen door to the cottage. Nate opened the bigger wooden interior door before opening the little exterior screen door. "You guys finally made it!" Nate joshed as he handed Harm and Sturgis beers.

"Well, the Beltway was absolute murder." Harm complained as he gave Nate a pat on the shoulder. "And, we couldn't just take a chopper out here."

"No beer for me, Mr. Secretary?" Bobbi asked in her usual argumentative tone.

"No beer for Senators, loose lips." Nate replied s everyone moved a little further into the house. The stereo system blared some great classic rock, the barbecue could be smelled throughout the house and the gang from the CIA seemed to have gathered around the beer cooler.

"Guarding the beer, Mike?" Harm joked as he passed his co-worker.

"Monitoring Webb's intake, we don't want him clubbing any more unsuspecting bovine and getting us hauled into the slammer." Mike replied which cause Harm and Nate to laugh and made Sturgis raise his eyebrows.

"That's probably a wise move." Harm shook Mike's hand and then followed Mac who was following the smell of barbecue out toward the back porch. What they saw was a most amusing scene. The Admiral and Bev were standing over the grill; the Admiral had a chef's hat on and a 'Kiss the Cook' apron.

"You know, Bev, you're only supposed to kiss the cook once, right?" Nate asked, noting the position that his sister and the Admiral were in.

"You play by your rules and I'll play by mine, Nathan." Bev shot back as she kissed the Admiral on the cheek again.

"Sir?" Mac questioned, trying to contain her smile.

"Nice to see you, Colonel." The Admiral nodded, barely moving his eyes from the grill.

"What are you doing here, sir?" Mac had her eyebrows raised in suspicion.

"I was told by a very reliable source that this was an ideal way to spend a weekend. I haven't felt this young in years!" The Admiral joked and laughed heartily along with his girlfriend.

"In that case, sir; pass me a frankfurter and point me toward the ketchup!" Mac replied, the Admiral handed her a hot dog and pointed her off toward the plastic patio table that was adorned with condiments.

"Mac, how can you eat that stuff?" Harm questioned with a familiar, mock lecturing tone.

"Harm, you're going to eat red meat this weekend or so help me God, we'll wax all the hair off your body while you sleep." Nate threatened with crooked grin.

"I'd take him seriously, sir, Marines aren't light with threats like that." Gunny popped out from behind Harm.

"Gunny? Did you stowaway with us?" Harm asked, pleased to see the Gunny here at the party.

"No, sir, the Secretary and I know each other from Physical Therapy; he came by to drag me out here for the weekend. I'm looking forward to waterskiing tomorrow." Gunny was smiling from ear to ear.

"Don't forget the skinny-dipping tonight!" Peach came walking out on to the back balcony.

"Skinny-dipping? You don't approve of this, do you Reverend?" Harm asked, turning toward Bev.

"I'm normally asleep by the time anyone is that drunk." Bev retorted with a very maternal smile.

"Harm, tell me that you're not so square as to find something wrong with a little skinny-dipping." Nate coached with a pleading look.

"Well……I…uh…I." Harm stammered over his words.

"He is. I thought he was going to have a coronary when he thought I was going topless in Australia. Peach, if the girls are doing any skinny-dipping, count me in!" Mac raised a glass of Lemonade that Peach had brought out for her.

"Will do, Colonel." Peach smiled slightly. It was the guys who were trying to contain their intrigue however. The prospects of Mac, Peach and a few of the other girls at the party skinny-dipping certainly held some promise.

"I know what you're thinking." Nate joked, elbowing Harm in the back.

"They won't actually……" Harm started but Nate caught his drift right away.

"They certainly will." Nate affirmed with a nod.

"You mean, completely buck…" Harm's sentence was finished again.

"Naked as the day they were born." Nate was still nodding.

"Nate, this was the best idea EVER!" Harm gave Nate a pat on the back and the two men headed back into the house. "So, you guys just come out here and party like teenagers until Sunday afternoon when you all pack up and head home?"

"That's the plan, between the drinking, dancing and just about anything else, these weekends are great. It's one weekend where almost everything is at your fingertips; you just have to reach for it." Nate extended an arm to illustrate his point. "There are nine bedrooms in this huge cottage and my guess is that you will hear screams of ecstasy coming out of at least seven of them tonight. Think I'm wrong? Go around tonight with Mac and press your ears up against the bedrooms doors."

"Why go around with Mac?" Harm asked, ignoring the rest of the statement.

"If you go around alone and you're caught, you look like a weirdo. If you go around with Mac, you look like an adventurous couple. There in lies the difference. Nate and Harm walked into the kitchen, Nate limped over to the fridge, his ACL still a little tender from the incident a few months back. Nate opened the fridge and tossed Harm one from the private stock of beer that Nate kept in the fridge.

"Did you know that you and the President have the same taste in beer?" Harm opened the can. "Is there some story behind why you drink this stuff too? Some vivacious redheaded Canadian diplomat get you hooked on the stuff?" Harm chuckled.

"Nah, actually, I was sitting in a minaret post in Kuwait City with a Canadian sniper Staff Sergeant. We were shooting the shit and normally the only time I touch a beer can is to ice down a bruise but the Sergeant pulled a beer out of his case and tossed me a beer of this Keith's stuff. He told me that this stuff was brewed by a Scot, my ancestry being largely Scottish, I figured it couldn't hurt. This stuff fast became my favourite beer." Nate laughed.

"So, you have the same beer preference as the President out of a similar wartime chance? There's a telling sign." Harm started to move out of the kitchen.

"Of what?" Nate shouted after him.

A little more than an hour later, Harm was standing with Sturgis and the Admiral off to the side of the room as the normal attendees along with the girls danced around under the coloured strobe lighting in the dark living room. "You think they care that they look like carefree morons?" Sturgis shouted to Harm over the thumping music.

"No, I think that's the whole point of this weekend. No one here cares what other people think of them for a few days. They do whatever they want because they don't judge and they aren't judged. It's a weird atmosphere." Harm laughed as he raised another beer to his lips. Beverly Ross ran out from the crowd over to the stairwell where the guys were gathered and pulled the Admiral into the fray. Harm and Sturgis couldn't help but laugh at the Admiral's lack of resistance to the action.

"Is Nate dancing with Stacy Anderson from ZNN?" Harm questioned, pointing his index finger over to the centre of the room.

"If you call that dancing. That's certainly who it appears to be." Sturgis was the next to be pulled into the fray as Bobbi appeared seemingly out of nowhere, yanked him by the arm. As the night dragged on, the music got louder and the dancing got more suggestive. The people that Harm knew were scattered around the room. The girls seemed to have moved downstairs for a few quick games of pool. Well, not all the girls, just Mac, Peach, Bobbi and Bev. The rest of the women were mostly still on the main level of the house being chatted up by the guys, all of whom were still up here.

Harm thought it wise to follow Sturgis and the Admiral down to the basement. On the main level of the house, Nate was rapt in conversation with Stacy. "You know, there's a reason I'm in Washington." Stacy led the conversation.

"I figured that there was a reason that a correspondent from the New York office would be transferred to the Washington office." Nate returned as they leaned up against the doorframe that led out to the back porch.

"It's you. The news director thinks it's wise to have one reporter covering what you're doing. You're a story, Nate and they know that I'm someone who can get close to you." Stacy admitted.

"But of course, you would never betray a friend for your job. I know that much." Nate was slightly shocked by her open admission.

"Don't worry, they're not looking for gossip, they're looking for insight on you from someone who knows you. What you might have been thinking when you made a big decision, you know Oprah stuff like that." Stacy smiled a little shyly.

"There's only one problem with that theory, you have no idea what I'm thinking." Nate shot back, with his typical charm.

"I bet I know what you're thinking right now." Stacy challenged and Nate raised his head as if to say 'oh yeah'. "You're wondering how much effort you would have to put into carrying me upstairs, throwing me down on to a bed and peeling my clothes off." Nate looked surprised and retreated slightly from the topic.

"I……uh…I……I…" Nate was stammering.

"Well, let me tell you this, Mr. Secretary, with my willing participation, there would be very minimal effort required, until you get my clothes off that is." She whispered in his ear in a husky bedroom voice.

"Why the sudden change of heart?" Nate questioned as the two of them moved through the party toward the stairs.

"Because, there's something about you I can't keep fighting. I mean, God, Nathan you've known me for the better part of fifteen years, I can't remember a time when I wasn't just a little bit attracted to you. Philadelphia just intensified it, I don't know what we were thinking just trying to have that one night and go back to life but we did try, and it was hard, wasn't it?" Stacy asked as they broke away from the party and headed up the stairs.

"The hardest." Nate admitted.

"Ready to stop fighting it?" She questioned.

"So ready." Nate picked her up and carried her up the remaining stairs to one of the bedrooms.

The girls never got to the skinny-dipping, by the time that the pool games down in the games room were finished everyone was well into the wee hours of the morning. Peach took a room downstairs that she normally used when they had these things. Bobbi and Sturgis had fallen asleep together on a futon in the games room. Bev had taken the Admiral upstairs to her room a little earlier, being the Reverend, she was dressed head to toe in flannel pyjamas.

So, Harm and Mac ventured upstairs in search of some place to sleep for the night. They went in search of Nate, as he was the only person who might be awake that could direct them toward a suitable place to sleep being as everyone else seemed to have just passed out where they were last seen standing up. As Harm and Mac turned on to the upstairs stairwell, they saw Nate walking across the top of the stairs toward the bathroom in his orange and black Princeton bathrobe.

"Hey!" Harm called up the stairwell and Nate turned his face toward the two of them.

"Hi." Nate had this goofy look on his face.

"You have total sex hair, I hope you realize that." Mac commented and Nate's expression sank through the floor.

"No, I don't." Nate refuted weakly.

"Sweat drenched, flattened on the back and ruffled all to hell on top. Have to say, buddy, that's total sex hair." Harm chuckled as he climbed the stairs. "Seriously though, we need a place to sleep." Nate reached into the pocket on his bathrobe.

"Here's the key to the master bedroom." Nate tossed Harm the key. "Normally, I'd worry about an opposite sex pairing sleeping on my parent's bed because we'd be risking a fluid spill. But it's you two, so that's not an issue." Nate gave Harm a pat on the back. "Have fun, kids."

Nate headed back toward his room, closed the door and within seconds the sound of giggles could be heard coming from the room next to the master bedroom. Harm and Mac took the key and headed toward the master bedroom. "Not as if we've never shared close quarters before." Mac chuckled nervously.

"Yeah, nothing out of the ordinary for us." Harm affirmed as he put the key in the lock and turned the doorknob. He opened the door to find a king sized bed along with a television that was easily in excess of thirty inches and various types of Marine Corps memorabilia mixed in with décor that looked straight out of Martha Stewart. "You think they had Martha herself come in? Think she's tight with the Commandant?"

"Come on, Harm, it's not that bad." Mac threw herself down on the bed and sat uprights.

"Maybe not for you, you're a Marine and a woman, this room is like a fantasy in your little mind. All it would need is a Ben & Jerry's freezer in the closet and a Beltway Burger in the en suite." Harm joked as he took a seat in the rocking chair in the corner of the room. The two of them sat there looking at each other for a few seconds when their companionable silence was broken by cries of ecstasy coming from the next room. Loud moans and multiple invocations of God had infiltrated their little world and disturbed them.

"Thin walls in this place." Mac joked nervously.

"Did she just say 'Oh, Mr. Webb.'?" Harm questioned.

"Well, two rooms border this one and I don't hear anything coming out of Nate's which is on the other side. So, it's not unreasonable to assume that Webb is in that other room." Mac deduced as she lay back on the bed.

"Oh, I'm not doubting that. I'm doubting Webb's ability to make any woman moan that loudly." Harm joked and Mac had to laugh loudly. "Although, if Nate's hair was anything to judge by, the action in the other room should be firing up soon." Harm rolled his eyes.

"Any idea who it was? Peach was with us all night." Mac inquired as Harm paced the floor in front of the window.

"Well, Nate seemed pretty up close and personal with Stacy Anderson all night." Harm mentioned in passing but Mac's eyebrows rose.

"Really? You think the Secretary might be giving ZNN an exclusive interview?" Mac's smile quirked up in suspicion. It was at that moment that the groans and moans began to come from the opposing wall that the first set of moans came from. "A lot of really horny people here this weekend."

"The rest of the weekend is an excuse to act like a teenager, why can't night time be as well?" Harm offered weakly.

"Are you propositioning me?" Mac chuckled lightly and watched as Harm retreated.

"I don't proposition. You should know that after all these years." Harm peeled off his socks and overshirt.

"Oh I do, I've often wondered what it would take to get you to proposition a woman. I bet it's a whole spectacle. I bet for an observer, who knows your playbook, it's probably really funny." Mac laughed light-heartedly. "Admit it, Harm, you're still running off the playbook that you were using when you were twenty. Which would be fine if you were still acting like you did when you were twenty."

"People change. Events change us, Mac. Sometimes we like the people we were a lot more then the people we are." Harm yawned and lay back on the bed.

"When did you like yourself the most?" Mac asked, turning on the bed to face him.

"When I was flying for the first time. Everything kind of seemed right with the world. I was doing what I always wanted to do and I knew I was capable of having a relationship that didn't blow up and I had four of the best friends a guy had the right to ask for. It was everything I could ask for. I think I've always been trying to get that back." Harm let out a heavy breath. "When did you like yourself the most?"

"When there was nothing to like." Mac admitted. "I liked myself the most when Uncle Matt was drying me out because it all meant that I could be so much more then a drunken daughter of a drunken father and absent mother. That was when I proved that I was worth something to someone, hell that was when I proved that I was worth something to myself. I learned so much about how much someone can like themselves this year."

"Nate?" Harm asked, fishing for an insight into the murky relationship that Mac had with him.

"Hates who he is. Hates himself completely. Nate most liked himself in the period up until his brother got shot. Nate is a man who has blamed himself for everything that has happened in his life since he got back from Desert Storm. That's why he works as hard as he does; he wants it all to be worth something, to mean something to him or anyone else." Mac explained. "Why don't you talk to me?"

"What do you mean, aren't we talking right now." Harm replied.

"No, we're speaking but it's pointless. All our words are being driven by my vulnerability and your jealousy. You know what I want most?" Mac propped her head up on her hand.

"No, what?" Harm stated plainly.

"I want us to be able to talk. Enough with the bullshit and the lies and the doubletalk, enough with the lawyer bullshit, Harm. Enough with the running. Just talk to me. That's all I want from you. Just realize that you have a friendly ear and talk into it once in a while. For seven years we've done everything else, we never talk. I never know what the hell you're feeling and guessing is just way too damn difficult and risky. You rarely know what I'm think and when you do; you only see what's on the surface. So, here's what I want. I want our use of the word _friendship_ to actually mean something." Mac explained.

"You want me to tell you when I'm feeling what I'm feeling so that we can work out why I'm feeling it and work through it together? What in our seven years of friendship would ever lead you to believe that I'd go for that?" Harm questioned, hoisting his body into a sleeping position. "Or are we at the point in a male-female friendship where you can say pretty much anything and I'll either agree with you or do whatever you say?"

"Oh, we've been at that point for a while, I'm just seeing fit to use it now." Mac smiled as she crawled up to her own pillow. "You are under my power." Mac taunted with a few waving fingers in a humorous gesture.

"I'm trained to withstand torture, you know?" Harm's voice was getting slightly dreamy.

"I don't intend on torturing you. I intend on making you do something much worse. I intend on making you be honest." Mac rebuffed.

"And that's worse because?" Harm laid his head on the pillow.

"You never know what lies beneath the surface." Mac retorted, yawning aloud before closing her eyes. The rest of the weekend was largely held in the same juvenile spirit as was Friday night. Those who would partake, got drunk. Those who would disregard, got laid and those who could let loose had fun.


	17. Once More the Storm is Howling

_A/N: Alright, a lot of people didn't like the last chapter, to be honest, we weren't all that fond of it but it served its purpose and now we're into a more high paced part of the story. Enjoy!_

The phone rang. Of course, when you're asleep, the phone always rings. When you're having a sex dream about the woman you just slept with. His body stirred in the bed as he reached over and grabbed the phone. It had been about two weeks since the Beach Blaster out at the shore. Things at JAG were comparatively normal. Things at the Three Wise Men offices were hectic and fast-paced and the new Secretary of State was living a life which had shifted like Persian sand.

"You got Nate." Nate drowsily spoke into the phone.

"Dress for confirmation, you're the nominee." Gavin's voice came through the phone.

"Gavin, it's five in the morning, it's too early for you to be high." Nate ran his hand through his hair.

"It was either I call you now, or I called you at midnight. Dress to face the Senate Confirmation Committee and for God's sake, minimize the swearing and the insults." Gavin warned with a stern voice. "You could get unanimous consent if you behave like an adult for God's sake."

"Nate, who is it?" Stacy rolled over and kissed Nate's shoulder.

"When's the confirmation?" Nate asked, trying to cut off Gavin's inevitable question.

"1300 today, capitol building." Gavin answered and cut the connection.

"Who was that?" Stacy asked as Nate turned toward her and away from the phone.

"Gavin; apparently I'm the nominee." Nate smiled weakly before sinking back on to the pillow.

"Oh, that's wonderful." Stacy sank down on the pillow next to him and threw her arm over his chest. "Doesn't that mean that the President just tapped you to be the Secretary of State?"

"I guess so. My days never start normally any more." Nate chuckled and lightly ran his fingers through her blonde hair. "When do you go into work today?"

"Well, my guess is, with your confirmation hearings starting today apparently, I'll be reporting in primetime on what happened and giving insight into you. Seems I'm the ZNN expert on you." She leaned up and kissed his cheek.

"An odd position for a girlfriend to have, I must say. I guess, Primetime means you won't be home until later." Nate sounded disappointed.

"Big plans to take me out? I believe that would violate the stipulation of keeping our relationship quiet for the time being." Stacy shot back as she sat up in the bed.

"It was your idea, not mine to keep this relationship secret for the time being." Nate reminded her as he threw his legs over the side of the bed and walked toward his closet. "I don't know why."

"How about because at this point, any woman who dated you would be ruthlessly picked apart and scrutinized by the media. When was the last time there was a single Secretary of State?" Stacy questioned, turning to face him.

"I can't argue with you when you're naked, you know that. That's not fair. You're going to have to put clothes on if you want me to continue this discussion." Nate joked and nodded lightly.

"You have to stop being funny, I can't argue with you when you're funny." Stacy walked over and placed her index finger on the top of Nate's nose.

"I'm a funny kind of guy." Nate leaned in to kiss her finger.

"I'm not in the mood for having all my foibles and flaws aired out in the public conscience. I also enjoy having a plum assignment in Washington where I get to be close to you, and we both know that the second our relationship becomes public, I won't be able to work on anything that has anything to do with you." Stacy explained as she ran her hands over his chest.

"I don't like it, but I respect the decision." Nate reached for one of the suits in his closet, pulling it out; he laid it on the bed.

"Wear the red tie. You look sexier in the red tie." Stacy pointed out.

"I was just going to wear a sweater under the jacket." Nate replied.

"Nathan, these are Senators, your laid back attitude will only piss them off. Look like a Secretary of State and wear the tie." Stacy pushed and Nate just kind of gave in.

1627 ZULU

THREE WISE MEN OFFICES, THE PENTAGON

ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA

"Do you know where they are?" Mac walked in to find Nate standing in the middle of the office.

"They left for Jakarta a few days ago for co-operation talks with the Indonesian government, I haven't heard from Peach in at least thirty six hours. In the nine years we've known each other, we've never gone a full twenty-four hour period without speaking. Something's up." Nate lifted his head to face her. "Has Harm talked to you?"

"Not in almost forty-eight hours. Have you heard anything from Langley about them, I tried to call Clayton Webb but no one answered." Mac informed him. "Is Mike Bradley with them?"

"Yeah, Mike's with them. Doesn't make me feel any better." Nate began to pace. "What do we do?"

"We find out something, it's been at least thirty-six hours since last known contact. We have to do something!" Mac slapped him on the back to get him moving. "Come on, Marine, damn it! You're still in there under all the Washington bullshit, what do you want to do most right now?"

"I want to know what the hell is going on." Nate answered weakly. "I'm calling Langley." Nate pulled his cell out of his jacket and brought it up to his ear. "This is Secretary Ross and if I'm not talking to Deputy Director Reid in the next two minutes, I will cram my foot so far up the ass of everyone at the Company that my toenails will show up on their dental x-rays." Nate's voice was nearing sonicboom. After a few seconds, a voice came on the other end of the connection.

"Secretary Ross, nice to be hearing from you. What can I do for you?" The Deputy Director was being unusually cheerful.

"I need to know exactly what happened with Undersecretary DiPiccio and Captain Rabb and if I don't know now, you won't have a job when I start talking to the President after I hang up on you and don't screw with me, I'm a Marine and a sniper and I know about nineteen ways to kill you without breaking a sweat." Nate was practically growling.

"Fine, fine, fine; their convoy was ambushed on their way out to visit American military advisors working with Indonesian terrorist hunters. We have reason to believe that they're being held in the rainforest on the island of Borneo. What do you plan on doing?" The Deputy Director questioned.

"Finding them!" Mac shouted into the phone as she grabbed it out of his hand. She cut the connection and looked up at him. "I might have snapped a little."

"Just a little?" Nate questioned looking at her.

"The man I love is-" Mac stopped as Nate tossed her a superior glance. "Oh, like you didn't know. Now, the question is, what are you going to do, I've already stated my intention."

"I intend on going with you." Nate affirmed. "Give me a little time to get vacation from the President, I'll meet you at JAG in about ninety minutes. I'll have my secretary book us a flight into Pontianak."

"ZNN says that you're going to go through confirmation today, the President isn't going to let you go so easily." Mac challenged.

"Then I'll quit!" Nate snapped at her and Mac stopped dead in her tracks.

"Why?" She challenged, more to refute the tone he had taken with her then his actual sentiment.

"Don't try and psychoanalyze me. My mom's been trying for the better part of a decade and she's got an actual medical degree." Nate headed out of the room. "See you at JAG at 1300?"

"Yeah, sure." Mac headed out after him.

1803 ZULU

JAG HEADQUARTERS

FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

"You want to do what!" The Admiral practically leapt out of his chair.

"Sir, according to CIA intelligence, Captain Rabb is being held captive in the rainforest on Borneo in Indonesia." Mac informed for the second time in five minutes.

"And you would like to request a JAG investigation into this disappearance? Colonel, need I remind you that the Captain is no longer in this chain of command?" The Admiral crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Permission denied."

"But sir, I…Very well, sir. Permission to take emergency leave, sir?" Mac inquired, setting her jaw firm.

"Planning a trip to Indonesia, Colonel? If I wouldn't submit to your request for an official reason, what makes you think I would let you go without one?" The Admiral pressed.

"Because if you don't, I'll have your stars mounted on my wall." Nate appeared at the door.

"Mr. Secretary, I didn't hear you come in." The Admiral softened upon seeing Nate at the door.

"Obviously not; Admiral, I'm requesting Colonel MacKenzie and Gunnery Sergeant Galindez be posted TAD to my staff for the purposes of a diplomatic envoy to the region being as they've both had experience in Indonesia recently. Especially considering their involvement with the riots in Aceh late last year." Nate stood toe to toe with the Admiral.

"I was just about to approve Colonel MacKenzie's request for leave Mr. Secretary, if she wants to take on this extra duty, I'll revoke her leave time and gladly assign her to your staff." The Admiral seemed suddenly incredibly cooperative.

"That's very kind of you, Admiral. I trust you'll take care of all the paperwork?" Nate jibed.

"Absolutely." The Admiral nodded. Both Mac and Nate turned and headed out of the office.

"You got Gunny to agree to come along?" Mac questioned as they walked through the bullpen.

"Whether international incidents or barfights, the same saying always applies; you can never have too many Marines." Nate joked as they stepped on to the elevator.

"What did the President say when you told him?" Mac asked as the doors closed in front of them.

"He told me to do what I had to do and that my job would always be there for me." Nate informed her with a heavy breath.

"Surprising amount of lenience." Mac laughed sardonically.

"You all packed?" Nate asked. "Stupid question, Marines keep their sea-bag in the car."

"Right." Mac walked through the now open elevator doors and through the foyer at JAG. Out in the parking lot, Gunny was finishing packing Nate's SUV for the drive to the airport.

"All ready for departure, sir, ma'am." Gunny nodded with a smile.

"Very good, Gunny." Mac got into the vehicle in the back. Gunny rode shotgun and Nate got in behind the wheel. "What's this?" Mac picked up the Marine issue M40A1.

"An old friend that I haven't seen for a long time." Nate quipped as they pulled out of the parking lot.

"Why is it here?" She pushed her questioning.

"Because we're going to save people and in the process, my best guess tells me that other people are going to die. That right there, is the best tool by which I can kill them without getting myself or any of my friends killed." The car pulled on to the interstate heading for Dulles airport.

0134 LOCAL

SOMEWHERE IN THE RAINFOREST

BORNEO, INDONESIA

Nicole DiPiccio was cradled into the corner of the small hut in the jungle. It was dark, it was always dark around here, or at least it always seemed to be. The only light that came into the hut came in when the door opened. Mike had gotten away, a tricky Company man, Nate had called him once and he had been right. He had gone off into the jungle and now the only hope that she or Harm had was that he might make it back to Pontianak.

The door swung wide open and Harm was pushed into the hut. He collapsed on to the floor with a heavy cough and Peach rushed to his side. "You can't keep letting them do this to you." She told him as she dragged him back over to the side of the hut and propped his back up against the wall.

"Letting them do this to you isn't an option. You understand their language and you're a woman, my chivalry may be beaten but it isn't dead." Harm's breathing was starting to come back little by little.

"I never thought I'd end up in a place like this. I'm used to negotiating terrorist situations, not being involved in them." She began to pout as she sat shoulder to shoulder with him. "Thank God Mike got away. There's a ray of hope."

"Nate warned me about your perpetual optimism." Harm chuckled which was followed by a cough. "We need a lot of time which we don't have, a lot of backup which we don't have and a lot of bullets which we don't have. See you and I are both employed in professions where we talk and talking isn't going to do us any good here."

"What do you suggest?" Peach turned to face him.

"We talk with each other, keep each other alive and entertained as long as we can because we may not have much time left. Remember what they did to Daniel Pearl." Harm raised his eyebrows.

"If Mike made it back to Pontianak, and that's a big _if_, we have to pray that he called someone who could actually help get us out of here. The Company isn't going to do anything because Mike doesn't technically work for them, at least not in any way that Al-Qaeda could find and they would like to keep it that way. You're the responsibility of the State Department whose official government position is to not negotiate with terrorists and without intelligence the Navy can't find me. So we're pretty much stuck here." Harm relented.

"How bad does it hurt? Is it worse then when you were in China?" Peach rushed to check a large developing bruise on his ribs.

"How do you know about that?" Harm questioned with a furrowed eyebrow.

"Who do you think had to help the State Department regulate our position with China after the affair and Matsui and Kimoi? That was up to me and Nate." Peach laughed a little. "So, how bad is it?"

"Not as bad as it could be. They're beating the hell out of me with bamboo canes. That hurts like hell. But they're not using drugs or electroshock. Something for which I think I'll be eternally grateful." Harm winced as he transferred his weight to his other hip.

"So, they haven't broken out the car battery yet. Well, that's a good sign. My guess is that they only have one and they need it to in order to go and get supplies in Pontianak. Procuring the kinds of drugs that they would need would be exceptionally difficult in this part of the world." Peach began to shiver. "I don't understand how this place can be 110 degrees in the day and drop to 40 at night."

"C'mere." Harm opened his arm and Peach slid under it. "Just pretend I'm Nate."

Peach laughed. "And you just pretend I'm Mac and we should get through this just fine." She let out a heavy breath as they curled together. "Do you think they know?"

"Part of me hopes they do. Because it means that we might get out of this place. The other part of me wouldn't want Mac within a hundred miles of this place." Harm explained and spit out blood from the cut on his lip. "Right now, that second part is stronger, but I'm not sure how much longer that'll be true."

"I'm so scared. I'm not used to being this frightened but I can't help it. If this was Nate, he'd know just what to do. I keep telling myself that he wouldn't be frightened but I don't know if his prospects have ever looked as dim as mine do right now. I already understand what you mean when you say that you wouldn't want Mac near this place. But, I know that he's got something in side of him that would let him handle this because; he's always been Superman before." She was starting to rant.

"Let's hope that he can don the red cape one more time then." Harm's eyelids fell closed. Peach just looked toward the heavens and prayed to God for a miracle, for a white knight to come riding through the darkness of the Borneo jungle.

1602 ZULU

DULLES INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT

OUTSIDE OF WASHINGTON, DC

Mac paced the floor. The lone flight from Washington to Pontianak was leaving in a matter of a little less then an hour. Gunny was getting everything cleared through security and Nate was making one final call on his cell phone. "Who were you talking to?" Mac asked as she walked up behind him.

"No one." He replied as he turned and walked passed her.

She reached out and grabbed him by the arm to spin him around. "That's a shitty answer."

"It was a shitty question." He growled.

"Why are you doing this?" She pushed her question at him.

"Why have I done anything? Because it was the right thing. It may be a bitch and it may endanger my life but if it's the right thing, then the people I care about can trust that **I will do it**." Nate set his jaw with real resolution.

"So, then who was on the phone?" Mac dug in.

"Stacy Anderson, why does it matter?" Nate answered in a challenging tone.

"Are you dating her now?" Mac wasn't about to be intimidated by Nate's voice.

"Yes, but why does that matter at all?" He asked again.

"So, you're dating one woman, but travelling around the world and raiding the compound of major international terrorists to save the life of another woman. That doesn't seem a little odd to you?" Mac had questioned in her best prosecutor tone.

"What do you want me to do? Let her die?" Nate was pushing with a different emotion driving his voice.

"I want to understand why you were willing to give up everything to go to Indonesia with the same sniper rifle you used in Desert Storm in order to save Peach's life but yet none of us knew you were dating Stacy. That doesn't strike you, a pretty smart guy, as being just a little odd." Mac raised one eyebrow in a superior look of triumph.

"What's your point?" Nate questioned, sounding defeated.

"Nate, I'm willing to bet that you can count on both hands the amount of people that you would be willing to do this for. You could drop one hand and tell me how many people you would pull that sniper rifle out for. Why are you really doing this?" Mac put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

"If I say I don't know, will you give me time to think?" Nate sounded scared and reluctant.

"Take all the time in the world. Just remember that I'm here if you need someone to talk to." Mac sat down in a chair in the lobby. Nate walked over to Gunny who was still standing near the gate. He had just finished talking with security.

"Gunny, can I ask you a question?" Nate asked as he came to a stop.

"Sure, sir, what's up?" Gunny looked up at the Secretary of State who had come to be his friend.

"Why did you agree to come along on this crazy escapade, Gunny?" Nate asked as he raised his head to look at Gunny.

"Because I've known Colonel MacKenzie and Captain Rabb a long time, sir. I never leave a man behind and I don't think I'd be able to look myself in the eye if I knew that either one of them was just rotting in a jungle somewhere waiting to die. I know that Lieutenant Roberts would be here with us if he could and to be quite honest, sir, I'm surprised that the Admiral didn't demand to come along." Gunny looked like the most genuine man on the planet as he spoke.

"You're a good man, Gunny. Leave no man behind, we really never do forget that do we?" Nate asked rhetorically.

"Not unless cops are involved, sir." Gunny joked.

"Flight 117 flying Washington to Pontianak is now boarding." The call came over the airport loudspeaker.

"Sounds like we're up to the plate, kids. We either back out now or go see this through to the end." Mac looked from Nate to Gunny and then focused on Nate. "Well?"

"You really expect me to back out? I'm a Marine, too, Colonel, and there's nothing that's going to stop me from getting on that plane with my M40A1 and putting a bullet through the skull of every son of a bitch at that compound that even _looks_ like he _might_ be involved with Al Qaeda. Problem, Colonel?" Nate was back to confrontational.

"Not at all but you do seem surprisingly more resolute then you did almost ten minutes ago." Mac smiled suspiciously.

"Yeah, well, I'm pissed off and armed. That's not a great combination and it does tend to lend itself to strengthening convictions." Nate turned toward the gate. "Now, can we get on the plane?"

"After you." Mac motioned toward the gate and Nate led them on to the plane.

0242 ZULU

ADMIRAL CHEGWIDDEN'S HOME

MCLEAN, VIRGINIA

"I did a bad thing; I almost screwed up my friendship with one of my closest friends today." AJ Chegwidden poured himself a glass of scotch.

"Honey, don't self-medicate with booze. It can't be that bad." Bev walked up behind AJ and began to soothingly rub his back.

"I was willing to let a man I consider a close personal friend, die in some godforsaken jungle somewhere in the South Pacific all because the new SECNAV is already riding my ass about the unorthodox methods of my staff in the past. The only reason I could let MacKenzie run off officially this time was because someone higher then the SECNAV was ready to pull her from my staff." The Admiral hurled himself down on his couch. Bev curled up on the couch next to him and she gently ran her hand across his chest.

"You're a good Admiral and it's still a bad idea to self-medicate with booze." She smiled against his cheek as she kissed him.

"Well, you won't let me self-medicate with sex." AJ put on his best puppy-dog imitation and winked at her.

"I'm a minister, what would my congregation think if they found out? Or if we slipped up and got pregnant?" Bev was obviously unaccustomed to not taking to the pulpit immediately.

"We'd have to get married." The Admiral smiled and laughed. The words hung between them like something that oddly seemed to fit into the conversation. He raised his eyebrows as if seriously considering the idea.

"We haven't been dating that long." Bev pointed out.

"I'm not getting any younger." The Admiral rebutted.

"You haven't met my whole family." Bev came back.

"Only because your brothers are sure that the Commandant will kill me." The Admiral reminded her. The two of them returned to silence. Bev had no more arguments on her side. "Marry me?" He asked turning toward her.

"Isn't this traditionally done with a ring?" She was starting to tear up.

"I have my Academy ring, does that count?" He laughed. "Well?"

"You do realize I can't perform my own ceremony so you won't be saving money on a minister." Bev had to laugh; it was the only way to prevent herself from crying. "Yes, AJ, you kind, sweet man. Of course I'll marry you." Bev hugged AJ furiously. "You do realize that this means that you have to go to church with me every Sunday now."

"Really? Because I'm more of a sleep in and golf on Sunday kind of guy." The Admiral joked. "I know, I know, I'll be right up front singing at the top of my lungs."

"Well, you don't have to be _that_ enthusiastic." Bev laughed as they settled down to watch Leno on the couch.

0524 LOCAL

SOMEWHERE IN THE RAINFOREST

BORNEO, INDONESIA

Peach woke up next to Harm. He had only slept for little more then an hour and even that hour wasn't all that refreshing. "Another day in paradise?" Peach asked.

"Or an Inferno Dante wouldn't buy tickets to." Harm retorted as two men knocked open the door to the hut.

_End of Three Wise Men Season Two_


	18. The Seawinds Scream Upon the Tower

_A/N: Since we're entering Season Three, it makes sense to list off the cast that we've added to the universe just as a reminder._

_Eric Bana as Secretary Nathan Ross_

_Carla Gugino as Undersecretary Nicole DiPiccio_

_Ed Burns as Special Agent Mike Bradley_

_Marcia Cross as Reverend Beverly Ross_

_Tom Skerritt as General Jack Ross_

_Ed Harris as Uncle Moshe _

_Alan Alda as President Andrew Russell (role was recast)_

"Wake up, sir; we're making our approach to Pontianak." Gunny shook Nate who was asleep in his seat. Nate slowly roused out of his sleep, shaking his head as he regained consciousness.

"That's not how you do it, Gunny. You have to really let him have it." Mac elbowed Nate in the gut which practically launched Nate out of his seat. "See, you ever tried to get a male Marine officer awake before Gunny? You really have to let them have it. Especially if they've been a civilian as long as he has."

"Right, ma'am." Gunny nodded.

"Remind me again why I took you two with me on this trip?" Nate rolled his head around looking at Gunny and Mac.

"Because you enjoy our company. And because there was no way in hell you were doing this without us." Mac rebuffed.

"She's got you there, sir." Gunny affirmed as he gave Nate a pat on the shoulder. "By the way, sir, the local temperature is 108 degrees Fahrenheit."

"What does that convert into Celsius as, Gunny?" Nate asked as he finally seemed to be actively participating in the conversation.

"Damn hot, sir." Gunny joked. "Should make this whole thing rather interesting."

"Yeah, because the terrorists, jungle, guns and hostages were a total snooze without the added heat." Mac deadpanned.

"See, Mac gets it." Nate supportively put his hand on Mac's shoulder. "You do know that we'll get him out, right?"

"You do know that we'll get _her_ out, right." Mac reminded him.

"God, I hope so." Nate dropped his chin down into his hand and looked out the window. "It would be a lot different if it was one of us or someone that I knew has a resolve of spun steel but Peach, she's delicate almost innocent." Nate huffed. "Something like this shouldn't happen to someone like that."

"Something like this shouldn't happen to anyone." Mac corrected.

"But if it's going to happen, it should happen to someone like me, someone who knows how to handle themselves in a situation like this." Nate was rambling and clenching his fists in an attempt to hold off the rising emotion. He grit his teeth and gripped the armrests.

"We're taxing down the runway now, sir." The flight attendant told Gunny who thanked her for her information. A few minutes later, the plane had safely landed on the tarmac and the passengers were getting off the plane. It was hard for three Marines, even though they were in civvies, to look inconspicuous in the country with the largest Muslim population in the world. There were things that worked in their favour but a few things here and there were hardly going to win them the favour of anyone in Indonesia.

The three of them walked through the terminal looking for something or someway that they might find information on the whereabouts of Harm and/or Peach. "You mean to tell me that you could make a call to your girlfriend and the President but you couldn't call some source in Indonesia that might know something?" Mac used Russian in case someone might be listening in on their conversation.

"We're Marines, if we can't do a little recon, then we should hang up our BDUs and call it a day." Nate retorted.

"Recon is one thing, it's a complete other thing to try and find a needle in a haystack. What do we do now that we're here?" Mac pressed.

"We aren't up shit creek yet, I have a feeling." Nate waved his hand like a wand receiving a signal.

"We're riding our whole search on the fact that you have a feeling?" Mac practically screeched finally breaking the Russian dialogue in favour of English.

"I'm going to have to agree with the Secretary, ma'am. I just have this weird vibe that something important is going to happen." Gunny chimed in and pointed over to a guy in a blue and orange patterned Hawaiian shirt and holding a sign that read 'MacKenzie, Galindez and Ross'. A smile grew wide on Nate's face as they all walked over to the man.

"Did my father send you?" Nate asked in Hebrew.

"No, I had to call the Commandant and make him aware of this mission. It was an old SEAL friend of mine that gave me a call to come and help you. I take it that you are pleased to see me?" The man was laughing lightly.

"Shall we say a little less then pleased and a little more then curious? You do tend to show up when I land in sticky situations." Finally Nate and the other man hugged. Nate flipped back to English in order to make introductions. "Mac, Gunny, this is my godfather Moshe. Moshe, this is Mac and Gunny."

"Colonel MacKenzie and Gunnery Sergeant Galindez, yes Nathan, I know who they are. Since it is bad policy for either the CIA or my people to have open operations in Borneo, we keep a small halfway house on the edge of the city." Moshe led them out of the airport to a waiting car. Everyone piled inside along with what little luggage that they had brought with them.

"Who are Moshe's people?" Mac inquired in a low whisper.

"He's a former member of the Sayeret Matkal. After he got out of the Army, he joined the Mossad. That was how he met my father. Israeli intelligence officers working with MEUs on the ground in the gulf region." Nate explained quickly.

"As Nathan should point out, I am no longer with the Mossad officially. I freelance, of course if you should ask the Mossad, I was _never_ with them officially. And I also feel I should point out to Nathan that his mother taught him that it was most rude to talk of others behind their back." Moshe interjected which brought Mac and Nate to silence.

"Sorry, Uncle Moshe." Nate hung his head.

"Honestly, Nathan, I don't know how the Americans expect you to lead the country some day." Moshe shook his head. The car pulled away from the airport. "Yesterday, my people found Agent Bradley lying at the side of the road well into the rainforest. He was badly injured but I have heard that he is on the mend today and may even be able to guide us in the general direction of the camp."

"Well, that's good isn't it?" Gunny questioned, looking over at the ex Mossad agent.

"Not entirely. We've had an abnormal amount of traffic passing through here recently. Visitors with Saudi, Yemeni and Algerian passports. We suspect that Ali Al-Bashram is coming to Borneo. Likely to the same camp where your friends are being held." Moshe pointed out.

"So, you're here hunting terrorists, Moshe? Aren't you getting a little old for that game?" Nate goaded.

"No matter how old the fox is, no matter how slow, it's once fast reflexes, it may still outsmart the hound. Nathan, it would be a great thing for your President's war on terror to catch someone so high up in the Al Qaeda framework." Moshe advised.

"It would also appease your bosses in Tel-Aviv to someone aiding and abetting Palestinian terrorists like Hamas." Nate reminded Moshe.

"That it would, that it would." Moshe nodded as the car drove on.

SAME TIME

SOMEWHERE IN THE RAINFOREST

BORNEO, INDONESIA

Harm was dragged, beaten and bloody back into the hut and hurled back down on to the floor. Peach rushed over to his side quickly and used a torn damp piece of her shirt sleeve to wipe the blood away from the cuts on his arms and face. "They found the blades." Harm coughed as he rolled on to his back. "I'm not sure how much more of this I can take."

"Let me go the next round, then." Peach gently cradled him in an effort to stabilize his breathing and heart-rate.

"No!" Harm protested loud enough to cause him to cough once again. "I'm trained to go through this. Three days and all they've gotten out of me is name, rank and serial number. If they're really good, I'll give them my suit measurements next time around." Harm's attempt at levity failed to crack Peach's demeanour. "Besides, if I let anything happen to you, Nate will kick my ass and I'd rather not have a pissed off Marine ready to beat on me."

"I don't mean enough to him that he would pick a fight with you." Peach was noticeably quiet.

"Yeah, you're only the woman he's in love with. He wouldn't tear me limb from limb if I even so much as let you get scratched." Harm was sarcastic.

"Harm, you're exaggerating. Besides, what about Mac? I'm sure that Mac's not going to be very happy with me for letting them cut up that ugly mug of yours." Peach joked as she gave him a pat on the cheek.

"If Mac came through that hut door today, I'd give her a kiss that she'd never forget. Of course, the massive head trauma that she would give me in return would probably kill me in my current condition; but I'm sure it would be worth it." Harm and Peach shared a laugh over that which led to Harm coughing some more. "Note to self: laughing causes excruciating pain."

"Harm, you really should let me take the next round, it's not fair that you have to go through all of this just to keep me from going through it." Peach was starting to gain a little bit of fire to her voice.

"Nate took two bullets for Mac that almost killed him because he saw it as taking bullets for me and giving me a chance at what I wanted in life. I'm repaying the favour. I know for a fact that Nate wants you, I also know that if I can give him the same chance for happiness that he was willing to risk his life to give me, then I'm willing to do that." Harm gulped and leaned back against the wall of the hut.

"So you and Nate are trying to out-sacrifice each other?" Peach questioned, sounding incredibly confused.

"You wouldn't understand." Harm resigned and rolled on to his side.

"Try me." Peach challenged, not letting him escape so easily.

"It's a code of the brotherhood. A set of unspoken rules that most decent guys believe in. Things like you don't think about a friend's wife in a sexual way or you don't try and pick up waitresses in skimpy clothing or how if a buddy is willing to risk his life to save the love of your life, you are bound to find some way to repay him." Harm turned back to face her.

"You really think that Nate and I are in love with each other and we just haven't acknowledged it, or something like that?" Peach asked with a glimmer of hopefulness.

"I believe in it so much that I'm lying on the floor of a hut, spitting up blood because of it." Harm wiped more blood from his lip.

"Harm, for what it's worth, you and Mac are just as meant to be as _you_ seem to think Nate and I are. Don't wait nine years, it's not worth it. Take the chance, leave no doubt." Peach lightly closed her eyes.

"It's afternoon, why are you trying to sleep?" Harm asked.

"The nights are peaceful and beautiful here. The days are full of your screams. Of the two, I prefer the night." Peach answered as he curled up on the floor.

"If Nate hurts you, I promise, I will break every bone in his body." Harm vowed aloud once he was sure Peach had fallen asleep.

1521 ZULU

JAG HEADQUARTERS

FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

The Admiral breezed into JAG Ops and through the bullpen on the way to his office. He should probably tell Commander Turner and Lieutenant Sims the truth about why Mac wouldn't be in this morning or any mornings in the immediate future. He also figured that it would be wise to enlist Lieutenant Sims' help in finding a ring for Beverly. "Tiner, would you have Lieutenant Sims and Commander Turner see me in my office as soon as they're available?" The Admiral instructed his yeoman as he moved through the outer office.

"Aye, sir." Tiner replied with a nod. The Admiral entered the sanctum of his office and threw himself down in the chair. He had felt bad about how things went with Mac the day before, so, before he left the office, he had made a call to an old friend who just happened to be a chief of station in the South Pacific who could give Mac a helping hand. An old friend who had been fighting this brand of terrorism for a very long time.

A few seconds later, Harriet and Sturgis came walking into the office and came to attention in front of their commanding officer. The Admiral studied them for a second before deciding to continue with his idea of bringing them up to speed on the situation. "It is my understanding, that a few days ago, a diplomatic convoy carrying Captain Rabb among others was ambushed in the Indonesian countryside outside of Jakarta. Latest intelligence indicates that they're being held somewhere on the island of Borneo. How they got there is anyone's guess. What we know is that that is where he is and the Colonel MacKenzie and Gunny have gone TAD to another office to participate in the rescue. Any questions?" The Admiral looked at the two stunned officers who stood before him.

"Is…there…anything that we can do, sir?" Sturgis piped up after a few seconds of silence.

"No, Commander, the Colonel and the Gunny are being well taken care of by the State Department and the Colonel's cases have been transferred to Lieutenant Singer and Commander Manetti with the lion's share going to Manetti. I just believed that you two should be made aware considering your respective relationships with the persons involved." The Admiral was doing his best to quell the torrent of personal emotions inside of him.

"Thank you, sir. If it's not too much to ask, sir, considering everything, would you keep us updated if you find anything out?" Harriet was a ghastly white as she asked the question.

"Lieutenant, the Colonel is with a team of Marines and an old Israeli Commando friend of mine. I'm sure that she will be kept as safe as possible where she is right now." The Admiral seemed to anticipate Harriet's next question. "That having been said, no part of the world is exactly safe right now, least of all, countries such as Indonesia where groups such as Al Qaeda have popular sympathies."

"So, she chased him all the way to Indonesia. She can do that, but she can't just tell him that she loves him, hell, she told me!" Sturgis flopped down in the chair before he realized what he'd said. The stunned faces of his coworkers were pretty good tip-offs. "I just said that out loud, didn't I?"

"You sure did, son. How long ago did she tell you?" The Admiral was rapt in the new revelation as he bent over his desk.

"It was the last case we worked together before Harm was transferred out." Sturgis ran his hand over his head. "She made me promise not to tell anyone under the threat that she would kick my ass."

"So, naturally you waited several months before airing it in front of two of her closest friends who already had their suspicions? At least you picked the right audience, son. Better us then the bullpen." The Admiral shook his head before falling back into his chair. "This is gonna be one hell of a week."

1706 LOCAL

MOSSAD/CIA SAFEHOUSE

OUTSIDE PONTIANAK, INDONESIA

"Come in and eat, we have much to discuss as I am sure that you do not intend to merely run off into the Indonesian rainforest in search of your friends, not without some reliable intelligence in any case." Moshe motioned for everyone to sit as they entered the house.

"It would be nice to know where we're going for once. I think all Nate had planned was that there would be shooting so he brought his gun." Mac pointed to the M40A1 that Nate had slung over his shoulder.

"It is his weapon of war. No man wields it as he does and he wishes to do the most harm possible to the most people possible without being shot at. We should all be so lucky as to have a part in violence that leaves us so unsusceptible." Moshe sat at the table and pushed a glass across the table. "This is the south pacific, there is little wine here. I have some Manischewitz and Nathan, knowing your preference for lower tannins; I have for you, some Pinot Noir from New Zealand. Please share with our guests." Moshe pushed a green bottle across the table to Nate.

"I don't drink." Mac pointed out.

"Most admirable, Colonel MacKenzie. In any case, what we do know is that their camp is in the rainforest, many miles north and east of the main road; up toward the mountains. When your spy friend come to, he'll be able to give us some better directions as to where the three of you are headed." Moshe fired up a cigarette.

"Why are the Company and the Mossad sharing a safehouse on Borneo?" Mac questioned as she finally took a seat at the table.

"When the Provos started aiding Al Qaeda in Afghanistan, the Director of the CIA called Tel-Aviv and enlisted our help. Really the two plans work on the same premise. Al Qaeda uses the Provos because the IRA invented modern urban terrorism. The CIA uses the Mossad for the same purpose. No one in the world, even MI-6, has been fighting Islamic Fundamentalist Terrorism as long as the Mossad has. The CIA is getting into the game late and they need a veteran to get them up to speed." Moshe exhaled a heavy amount of smoke through his mouth and nostrils.

"Which is why we're here." Mike Bradley came straggling into the main room. He looked like hell, there were bruises visible and black on his chest, neck and face. He hand one arm in a sling and he was nursing one ankle. "Oh God," he moaned as he took a seat, "Becky would be freaking out if she saw me right now."

"Can you tell us about how far the terrorists are from the main road and what direction?" Nate jumped right in, not willing to waste time.

"From what I remember about my time in the Boy Scouts, the camp is where he told you it is; north and east of the main road. I'd say that it's a good seven or ten mile hike through some pretty heavy jungle territory. There's small path of tire tracks that runs through the jungle, it's the only visible light brown dirt on the jungle floor." Mike rolled his neck and winced.

"What does this place look like?" Mac asked, keenly interested in what Mike was saying.

"It's a small little camp, a few buildings, nothing more. They've got one vehicle that they use to get supplies now." Mike answered as he gently rubbed his wounded arm.

"How did you get away, sir?" Gunny questioned, sitting across the table from the wounded spy.

"One of the guards was a dolt. I grabbed his gun as we were getting out of the car and shot him. I made a run for it. The others, they just started firing. They blew up a fuel tank and the explosion threw me thirty feet into the air. I came down on my arm and shattered it but I kept going. I passed out in a ditch on the side of the road." Mike finished talking and reached for a glass of wine.

"That was how we found him yesterday." Moshe pursed his lips after taking another drink of wine.

"So, we have to travel through several miles of jungle, north and east of the point on the road where they picked you up yesterday?" Nate was double-checking, his trigger finger was twitching as if it was itchy.

"That's the basic gist. You guys are going to have to come up with something though, there's no way only the three of you can take down that entire compound; not with Al-Bashram in town, they will have tripled their security, especially if they haven't found me. If you're going to be successful you'll have to be well prepared and well armed or you'll die before you can do any damage." Mike was practically on top of the table in protest.

"I hate you." Nate spat at him sarcastically.

"Why? He's right." Mac turned to face Nate.

"That's why I said it. Moshe, I'm going to need a Ghillie suit, some grenades and quite a few rounds of M40A1 ammunition. Think you can help me out?" Nate turned to face his godfather.

"I believed that you would be requesting such items, Nathan. I had them prepared for you today. For the Colonel and the Gunnery Sergeant I open my arms closet to their discretion. Agent Bradley is right, you three will need a plan, but I suspect that Nathan is already formulating one if he is requesting grenades." Moshe spoke with an arrogant air as he got up out of his chair.

"Once we get within range of the compound, I'll take up a position that allows me a panoramic view of the area. We can use the grenades to set off a distraction at one end of the camp while you two sneak around the opposite end. I'll cover you with my rifle. The distraction caused by the explosions should grant you enough time to enter the camp and work toward the place where Harm and Peach are being held. I should be able to keep them busy long enough to draw a considerable amount of heat away from you two." Nate fiddled with the stem of his wine glass.

"It's flimsy and there are about forty ways that they could poke holes in that plan. You're basing the whole thing on their psychology." Mac pointed out.

"But……" Nate alluded to the inevitable completion of her thought.

"But, considering the circumstances, that's about all we can muster. It's not as if we can just run in. We better use some smoke grenades as well, it should give us a fair cloak to work under when we're in the camp." Mac and Moshe locked eyes as the older Israeli man's smile signified his approval of her amendment to Nate's plan.

"You should go in a few hours before dawn. It will give you time to set and work through the jungle without sentries. You should reach the camp around dawn, they're Muslim so they should be praying around that time, and it's perfect to begin the assault. Are you going with them Moshe?" Mike turned toward the older man.

"No, no, my battles were won and lost many years ago. I will but assist them in their escape. So, we have established a long range radio contact. Radio me when you need me to be waiting with the car on the road and be prepared to get out of here. I'm already making arrangements to smuggle you out of the country and get you to some place which would be more accommodating to your national interests." Moshe reclaimed his seat at the table.

"We should get some sleep. It is going to be a very long day tomorrow and we are going to need every last microcosm of strength in order to get through it and save Harm and Peach." Mac put a conciliatory hand on both Gunny and Nate's backs.

"Of course, there are rooms made up for you in the cellar. I pray that those powers which protect us in our most trying times go with the three of you tomorrow." Moshe opened the door to the cellar downstairs. Gunny sprinted down the stairs leaving Mac and Nate to lag behind.

"Mac, why have you been so hard on me this trip?" Nate asked quietly as they descended the staircase.

"Because you seemed so uninspired back in Washington. You seemed so content to just sit there and let this happen that I felt I needed to light a fire under you in order to get you to do the right thing." Mac explained with a softened tone.

"I'm here now, I just hate that we live in a world where a supposedly retired trained killer has to dust off his rifle to kill more human beings because of how highly he values the life of a special woman." Nate reflected with a heavy breath.

"Why are you here?" Mac questioned, looking caringly into Nate's eyes.

"Because I care." Nate answered simply.

"About her?" Mac and Nate reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Yes." Nate was sounding tired.

"How much do you care?" Mac pushed the big question.

"Well now, that's the question, isn't it?" Nate replied with a wise smile.

2224 LOCAL

SOMEWHERE IN THE RAINFOREST

BORNEO, INDONESIA

"You're right, it is serene and almost beautiful here at night." Harm and Peach gazed out of a small hole that they had dug in the wall of the hut.

"And it's not hotter then hell, which is a plus." Peach smiled sweetly.

"Do you think they're out there, looking for us? Coming for us?" Harm asked as he put a hand on her shoulder.

"I have no doubt. I just hope that they get here in time." Peach chuckled self-deprecatingly. "Ironic, isn't it? We've had all this time with the two of them and now all we want is just a little more because we think we'll get it right this time."

"I would give anything to be able to go back to a ferry in Sydney a few years ago. Or hell, any other time before or since then. When I look back, the last six and a half years just seem all so empty." Harm hung his head. "Did you know that Mac and I made a promise to have a baby together if we weren't dating anyone in five years?"

"How long ago was that?" Peach asked with a wide smile.

"Two and a half years ago. I don't care if I need to wait two and a half more years, it will be worth it." Harm was devout in his statement.

"Why don't you do the adult thing and have a conversation with her about moving up the timeline? Or better yet, just tell her that you're madly in love with her and want to take her on a date." Peach suggested.

"I'm not so sure about the date thing. Moving up the timeline on the other hand, that might be easier." Harm thought aloud.

"Let me get this straight. It's easier for you to tell a woman that you want her to have your baby then it is for you to tell her that you just want to take her on a date? What kind of screwed up planet are you from?" Peach was now laughing heartily out of disbelief.

"Southern California." Harm quipped and the two of them laughed.

"That would explain it, yeah." Peach affirmed. "They're coming, I can just feel it." Peach said. They were the last words Harm heard before falling asleep.


	19. One Equal Temper of Heroic Hearts

The small white jeep slowly worked its way along the main dirt road into the rainforest. Gunny and Mac were dressed in summer issue camouflage and Nate was wearing his Ghillie suit. The other two had camouflage paint on their faces and hands to blend into the background a little better but Nate looked like he had been picked up off the forest floor. Moshe was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a white oxford style t-shirt, looking in stark contrast to the commando look sport by the other three.

"Alright, this is the place." Mike Bradley pointed out the window to a ditch at the side of the road and the vehicle came to a halt. "The camp is seven miles due northeast from here. You'll pick up tire tracks after the first two miles, keep them to your left and you should come upon the camp after a while. God speed and keep low. Nate and Gunny, have you two got your radios?"

"Check." Nate nodded.

"Check." Gunny affirmed with a nod of his own. The three Marines were climbing out of the vehicle when Moshe caught Nate by the arm.

"If you have the chance, get Al-Bashram alive, but only if you have the chance. If you don't, blow the bastard's brains out." Moshe instructed.

"I understand. You know the deal, right, if I don't make it." Nate looked into his godfather's eyes.

"You were born under a lucky star, you'll make it." Moshe smiled and gave Nate a pat on the shoulder. "But take this to help you get through the bush." Moshe handed Nate a machete blade. "It's an Indonesian Golok blade. It's deadly sharp, my boy, so only use it on a human being if you have no intention of putting them back together." Nate slide the Golok into it's sheathe and looped the sheathe through his belt. "Take care of them, your father would be proud." With that, Moshe fired up the vehicle and turned back toward the safehouse.

Nate, Gunny and Mac stood at the side of the road for a few seconds. "I'll take the lead to clear so vegetation out of our way. Tie up your boots and stick your pant legs in them, the snakes around here are deadly venomous and the last thing we need is one of us going down with no anti-venom within a hundred miles. From here on out, there is nothing outside of the jungle, shoot to kill. If you run out of bullets get creative but remain deadly and don't hesitate." Nate lectured.

"Got it, so, after you, Major." Mac stepped aside.

"Very kind of you, Colonel." Nate was the first to step foot out of the ditch and into the rainforest with Mac and Gunny following fast on his heels. Nate had an Israeli Desert Eagle hung in a holster at his side, a few grenades on his belt and the Golok that Moshe had given him. His M40A1 sniper rifle was forward and at the ready. Gunny had opted for a Marine issue M16 with an Uzi on his belt and his service sidearm along with a few smoke grenades. Mac was carrying on AK-47 and she had another one slung over her back with her service sidearm secured in its holster at her side. Both Gunny and Nate were equipped with headset radios.

The three Marines worked their way through the jungle cautiously, not hacking at the vegetation unless it was absolutely necessary. They remained in guarded, crouched positions as they moved through the rainforest. Dawn was not far off but still darkness cloaked the area around them. Just as Mike had predicted, a set of tire tracks on light brown earth appeared on their left after a few miles. They kept the tire tracks well to their left so as to keep out of a high traffic area for those visiting the camp.

The whole thing had something of a snake quality to it. It was as though they were stalking their prey in the night, their prey unsuspecting that it was even being hunted would not be aware until it was too late and that was how the Marines wanted it. Before they left the safehouse, they had to shed any and all identification that could allow them to be identified as American military personnel. So, now here they were, a little more then three miles from the camp, supposedly and still moving as the night moved from an impenetrable black through ever lightening shades of blue.

The sound of light steady breath was the only sound that was acceptable to them so it was the only sound that they made. Breathing a new life of stealth into their surroundings. Wraiths in the night, they were, hunting a prey that so many of their contemporaries thought unbeatable. They were Marines. After another hour or so, the trees began to thin and Nate raised his scope and checked the distance to the camp. "Looks like eight hundred yards to the farthest point of the camp. The closest part of the clearing is much, much closer. I'll find my post and lob the grenades in; you two take that as your cue." Nate coached only to receive nods from Mac and Gunny.

"We got it, just cover our sixes." Mac returned comment.

"You're talking like your pilot already." Nate smiled and gave Mac a hug before she headed off.

"Been a pleasure serving with you, sir." Gunny held out his fist.

"Not over yet, Gunny." Nate tapped his fist to Gunny's before Gunny went off to join Mac. Gunny and Mac were hiding in a thick grove of trees near the edge of the camp. Both of them had their faces painted in disguise, hiding their usually distinct feature from plain sight. The stark white features of Mac and Gunny's teeth and eyes against the dark green and black of the paint on their faces allowed Nate to be pretty consistently aware of their presence. Nate found an ideal spot on a raised foothill overlooking the camp.

After a few seconds of waiting, the call for morning prayers rang through the camp and men began to come out of the buildings with their prayer rugs and they knelt on the ground and faced toward Mecca. Nate saw this as the perfect opportunity to initiate the operation. He removed the grenades from his belt and pulled the pins on them before lobbing them into the compound amongst the worshipping terrorists. Chaos ensued as carnage racked up from the two blasts so close in proximity. Gunny launched his smoke grenades into the camp to provide himself and Mac with some cover. When he heard the shots of a high powered, Marine issue sniper rifle begin to ring out, he and Mac sprang into action.

Their enemies seemed preoccupied with the sounds of the rifle that was mowing down their colleagues. "Lord, make my shots fast and accurate." Nate prayed quietly as he drew back the bolt to put another bullet in place. He pushed the bolt forward and took aim again. This time catching a terrorist with an automatic weapon in his crosshairs and pulling the trigger to end his life.

Back in the hut, the sounds caused by all the action outside had roused Harm and Peach out of their sleep. "Either our rescue just showed up or the local natives have really been working on their technology." Harm quipped as he cracked the door to the hut to look outside. "Looks like about eight of them were killed in an explosion." Harm looked back at Peach after closing the door. "From what I can see, another two or three have gone down from gunfire so far." Harm sat against the wall next to Peach.

"What do we do?" Peach asked, looking hopefully up at her friend.

"We aren't armed so we can't exactly help out the rescue team. Our only course of action is to sit here and hope they find us. If we go out there, we could get caught in the crossfire or worse, be shot intentionally. In here, we're relatively safe." Harm theorized.

"You hardly seem like the type to just sit around and watch the action happen around you." Peach commented as they moved away from the door.

"Normally, you'd be right. But I'm hurting so I'm not at the top of my game and besides, like I said, we're unarmed, so we're safer in here." Harm put his arm between her and the door. "Just stay here."

Mac and Gunny were making short work of the different small buildings around the camp as they searched looking for Harm and Peach. Mac had Gunny covered as he checked the buildings. She had shot a few people today but as Sherman theorized, war was hell and the climate around here certainly lent toward that metaphor. Feeling no reason to check the big buildings, they merely stuck to anything that was big enough to hold two people in simplicity and discomfort. Mac and Gunny came to another building and prayed that they were at the right one when they heard voices inside. Mac covered Gunny as he kicked the door open.

Up on the hill, Nate was still peering through his scope at the men in the camp, always keeping one watchful eye on Mac and Gunny to keep their position as uncompromised as possible. So far today, he was up to six kills, which would bring the number in his kill book to ninety-three total. The numbers didn't matter anymore, the only thing he could think about was getting everyone out of this neglected corner of the planet, alive…especially Peach. After all, she was the reason that he was here right? The reason that he was risking his life, his sanity and PTSD flashbacks was somewhere in the camp at the base of the hill.

"Gunny!" Harm practically shouted as he saw his friend come through the door. Harm went to get up and hug Gunny but his injuries forced him to the floor again.

"No hello for me, sailor?" Mac questioned with a smile as she came in behind Gunny. Harm's eyes went wide as he saw Mac standing in front of him. Even in a pair of BDUs with camouflage paint on her face, she still looked absolutely gorgeous. Even if it was in a Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons kind of way.

"Mac!" This time Harm was able to stand as he launched himself into her arms and clung to her for dear life. "What are you doing here?" He whispered into her ear.

"Question Period is later, right now we have to get the two of you out of here and back to safety and civilization." Mac took Harm by the elbow and led him out of the hut with Gunny escorting Peach.

"Who's providing your cover fire?" Harm asked quickly.

"A sniper friend who moonlights as the Secretary of State." Mac deadpanned as they crept around the corner of the building. Mac handed her second AK-47 to Harm after loading a clip into it. "You know how to use this thing, right?"

"Hey, I've been tortured, I haven't had my brain removed." Harm turned the safety off on the gun and raised it. Another high powered round entered the skull of a nearby young Arabic man and the company of four took it as their cue to move back toward the bush.

Up on the hill, Nate Ross was loading another round into his gun and preparing to pick off another target. He was up to twelve kills on the day. That meant that the actions of the three Marines had resulted in the deaths of twenty-five members of the enemy camp this morning. He was searching for a target when he was Mac and the rest of the company coming around the corner of the main building. Nate caught something coming out of the corner of his eye. It was an unfriendly and unfamiliar shape that caught one of the members of the company by the throat and pressed a gun to her temple.

"Peach!" Harm shouted, noting that she had been pulled from the group. Harm, Mac and Gunny all turned their weapons on the remaining terrorist. Just as they did, another armed man came out from between buildings.

"Put your guns down if you want her to live." The man announced to the other three who held their guns steady. "And call out your little friend who is hiding in the bush as well."

"Nate, take the shot." Harm instructed.

"Do and you sign her death warrant." The man threatened. Nate was caught at a crossroads, it was like Preston all over again. Should he take the shot and risk her life or put his rifle down and perhaps save her life. Actually, this was nothing at all like his brother with the exception of his position as a sniper and a loved one on the other end of the scope. Yes, Nate had to face it, in this moment he was forced to confront that fact, he loved her. He had been married but he had never loved a woman more then the one whose life was now in danger.

"Major, that's an order, take the shot!" Harm shouted, in an attempt to end the standoff and Nate found his decision made for him. He couldn't be acting as the Secretary of State on this mission, he had to be acting as a Marine. He focused the crosshairs on the man who had a gun pressed to Peach's head and waited for a space between the now rampant heartbeats.

"One……two……" The man shouted aloud. A shot rang out and dropped his accomplice to the ground in a heap. The last man pulled his gun on Peach but a second shot followed in rapid succession taking off his index finger and sending his gun to the floor. Gunny rushed over to help Peach while Mac and Harm went and stood over the wounded man.

"Three." Mac finished for him as she drew back the hammer on her sidearm.

"Stop!" Nate shouted as he came walking out of the jungle with his rifle slung over his shoulder. "That is Ali Al-Bashram, among the chiefs of the Al Qaeda high command. His roots with Al Qaeda go as far back as the Soviet invasions of Afghanistan and he is even suspected of having been a bodyguard for Ali Hassan Salameh before his assassination in 1979." Nate explained as he joined his comrades. "The Company and the Mossad want him for questioning. So, it is in the best interest of the greater good for us to bring him in for questioning and a few other interesting interrogation activities."

"You want to let this scum live after what he did!" Peach shouted as she came walking over toward Nate.

"Just because he's going to live does not mean that his existence is going to be anything short of the ninth circle of hell on earth." Nate pulled his Ghillie helmet off his head. He looked over at Peach and smiled. "You wouldn't believe how great it is to see your face." Nate put his thumb on her chin as if he were looking her over. "You're relatively unscathed as well." He turned to face Harm. "I suppose that's your doing, since you look like you were run through a wash machine during the spin cycle."

"If you and Mac had switched places with Peach and I, you would have done the same thing." Harm put his hand on Nate's shoulder and the two of them communicated a silent understanding..

"You know I would." Nate affirmed. "I'm not taking him into American custody, I'm transporting him into Israeli custody."

"You do know something about international law after all." Mac chuckled. "If you take him into American custody, you have to treat him within our rules. If you act like an agent for the Israelis, you can do just about anything to him and go unscathed. There is the issue of a State Department official working for the Israelis, it does border on treason."

"What about as a private citizen working as a mercenary in Indonesia?" Nate asked.

"Free within the borders of Indonesian law, basically, don't get caught." Harm answered.

"Alright, Gunny, you take over guard of the prisoner. I'm sure the Mossad agents would love to have a nice talk with him when we get back to the safehouse." Nate smirked with a maniacal tone.

"Mossad!" Bashram screeched from the ground. Nate laughed at the predicament that Bashram had himself in. Being the only one who spoke Arabic, he walked over to Bashram to address him.

"Agent Moshe Goldstein, Israeli Mossad." Nate played up under his godfather's cover. "Surely you must have anticipated that we would catch you eventually, Ali. Or did you think that you would be able to evade us forever?" Nate knelt next to his defeated enemy.

"Jew!" Bashram spat at him. "I may be caught, but Islam lives on and no pathetic Jew will stop that!" Bashram finished and he was answered by a Marine issue combat boot to the teeth.

"You can shut up and play nice for a while or you can get the shit beaten out of you by a Jew and we'll see how well the reputation of mighty Islam holds up against that!" Nate answered in Arabic as he pulled Bashram to his feet. "You see this? This is an Indonesian Gokol, if you decide to try and run from me, I will not hesitate to start indiscriminately removing body parts."

"It is a great honour to die for Allah." Bashram announced.

"That's why I'm not going to kill you." Nate grinned. "Everything short of that however, is fair game. Gunnery Sergeant, get him on his feet; we're expected somewhere imminently." The group began to move across the camp toward the path that they had taken to get to the camp, both Mac and Nate noticed Harm stumbling.

"Are you okay, Harm?" Mac asked, inquiring about his health.

"I'm fine, baby." Harm replied with slurred speech and a coy smile.

"Baby?" Mac mouthed looking at Nate. Nate thought for a second then turned to Peach.

"Has he been experiencing anything weird lately? Nausea? Seizures? Consistent loss of consciousness? Disorientation? Nate asked, impatiently awaiting an answer.

"Aside from the seizures, I've witnessed pretty much everything you said. Why, Nate? What's going on?" Peach asked concernedly.

"Nate, I've only seen these symptoms once before at a field hospital in Bosnia." Mac warned.

"I don't understand, isn't this all from the torture? I mean they did hit him pretty hard with those bamboo canes." Peach was scrambling to have someone explain it to her.

"I know, Mac, I've only seen it a handful of times in hospitals myself. I'll radio in and see if we can't get someone here who can help us with this." Nate reached down and switched over the frequency on the radio. "Condor, this is Hawk, we need a bird here, we have an urgent medical situation, over."

"Hawk, what's your position?" Moshe's voice came back over the radio.

"We are approximately eight miles due northeast of the drop point. Any chance we can get a bird transport in here?" Nate was pressing urgency.

"A bird is on the way, Hawk. Have you got Bashram with you?" Moshe asked.

"That's affirmative, Condor. We have Bashram but one of the former captives is experiencing symptoms that line up with an Alpha Sierra Hotel, over." Nate called in, in an attempt to get more urgent service.

"Roger that, Hawk, your bird is on the way. It'll ferry you guys to Manila where the USS John Kennedy is coming to port for liberty in a few days. You can get it checked out there. Hand Bashram over to my agents and then after we have what information we can get out of him, we'll hand him over to the CIA, agreed?" Moshe was about to cut the transmission.

"All's kosher on this end. Over and out." Nate cut the transmission. "We're headed to Manila, there are people there who can check how Harm's injuries. I pray to God I'm not right and it's just a little battle fatigue but if I'm right, he needs a doctor, ASAP."

"I'm perfectly fine." Harm slurred. "Watch, I'll prove it to you." Harm turned toward Mac, grabbed her around the waist, bent her back and planted a kiss right on her lips. The other members of the company were all stunned. Gunny and Nate found themselves trying not to laugh about halfway through the kiss.

"We're not seeing this, right, Gunny?" Nate asked quietly.

"I have no idea what we're not seeing, sir. But we're certainly not seeing a lot of it." Gunny replied with a smile as Harm and Mac came up for air.

"Alright, now I know you're not alright." Mac affirmed as she wiped her lips. She was hoping that Harm would kiss her for risking her neck to come down here and save his but she wasn't hoping he'd do it because he might be suffering from a severe medical trauma but that would figure considering how they're relationship had gone over the years. After a few minutes of anticipation, a medium sized transport helicopter appeared overhead and two of Moshe's agents hopped out of the back.

"Our thanks, Colonel, Major, Gunnery Sergeant, if not for your efforts, it was possible that Bashram would have slipped through our fingers again." The one agent shook Mac's hand.

"You sure that bird has enough gas to get us to Manila? Captain Rabb is in need of urgent medical attention." Mac placed her hands on her hips.

"Oh yes, ma'am. We even have a former Israeli Army medic on board ready to administer a painkiller to the Captain so that his condition does not worsen under any strain." The younger man replied.

"Here's your terrorist." Gunny handed Bashram to the other agent. "All this death for one man because of one man. A damn tragedy."

Mac and Nate propped up either side of Harm as they walked him over to the Helo. They found Mike already onboard with and Israeli Army medic as promised. Soon after, Peach and Gunny joined them and the Helo took off. The medic pulled out a vial with a label written in Hebrew. He drew some into a syringe and flicked the tip of the needle. He wiped a medicated swab over Harm's arm and tied it off before injecting him with the syringe. "What did you inject him with?" Mac asked the medic.

"A small dose of Morphine, in his state, that's about all he could take." The medic replied.

Within a few minutes, Harm was drifting into unconsciousness and yawning. "See you in the morning, Mac." Harm said with a dreamy tone.

"Just get some sleep." Mac lightly stroked the hair of the head in her lap.

"Love ya." Harm muttered as he passed out. The other members of the company looked on the scene fondly. Peach chuckled before speaking.

"Did you get what you came down here for, Colonel?" She asked with a smile.

"Only if he remembers any of it when he wakes up." Mac smiled weakly. Tears ran down her face as she continued to lightly stroke Harm's hair. Peach turned to look at Nate who was still wearing his Ghillie suit and proudly sporting the camouflage paint on his face.

"You do realize that you look absolutely ridiculous in that thing, right?" Peach chuckled as she lightly ran her fingers over the paint on his face, smudging a little on to her fingers.

"You telling me that you don't look my Marine look? I kind of dig all the camouflage and face paint." Nate smiled, his white teeth proving a really stark contrast against the paint on his face.

"I'm just not used to it, I guess." Peach recovered, his smile always could melt her. She twiddled her thumbs idly. "I suppose, I should thank you, for saving my neck like you did."

"Don't. You never should have been a hostage and you thanking me is unnecessary. The fact is that I couldn't have lived with myself if I hadn't tried to save you. It helped to have my fellow Marines though, two people always willing to keep me in line." Nate tapped fists with Gunny and exchanged a nod with Mac.

"Semper Fi to the end, sir." Gunny added as he stretched out.

"Semper Fi, Gunny." Mac grinned.

"Semper Fi." Nate added his voice to the chant.

"Semper Fi, Marines." Peach concluded.

"And that was as close to a Hallmark moment as we're going to get on this trip." Gunny joked.

"Yeah, and you had to ruin it, nice going, Gunny." Mac joked. Gunny closed his eyes, exhausted by the morning's activity. This gave Nate and Peach less of an audience for any talking they felt they had to do.

"Was it hard? Picking up that rifle and killing with it again?" Peach asked, pointing to the rifle that was leaning against the inside of the Helo.

"Hard, but necessary, I had to overcome every single fear on this one but I should have been able to do that a long time ago." Nate answered dropping his head back against the glass window of the Helo.

"Why did you do it?" She asked as she laid her head on his shoulder.

"For you. I did it for you." Nate answered. The two of them just sat there in silence as the Helo took them ever closer to civilization closer to home.


	20. From That Eternal Silence Something More

_A/N: The music idea from Chapter 10 starts to come into effect in this chapter, in case anyone actually went along with that idea of ours. _

1657 LOCAL

HOSPITAL OF MANILA

MANILA, PHILIPPINES

Mike and Gunny had left to go make reservations at the hotel, while Mac, Nate and Peach were waiting for word on Harm from the doctors. Three American military personnel received special treatment due to their connections through the embassy. It had been a long day for these people. Nate had finally been able to switch out of the Ghillie suit but he still had paint on his face and hands. Mac was in a similar state but they were both joking about Gunny wanting to go back to the hotel so he could clean up and not look like a member of a Marine war party.

"Heard anything yet?" Peach asked as she sat down beside Mac who was holding a cup of steaming coffee in her hands.

"Nothing, the doctors took him in for the neurological work up hours ago. I hate all of this. I hate that this had to happen, I hate that we live in a world where someone on a diplomatic mission can't simply do their job without possibly becoming pawns in a game of international chess. You want to know what I hate the most?" Mac's cheeks were still tearstained as she turned to face Peach.

"What?" Peach asked softly as she put a hand on Mac's shoulder.

"I hate that the first time I heard Harm use those words, it was because the torture he had been exposed to was intense enough to cause a brain injury." Mac's voice broke part way through the sentence and Peach hugged her. Nate was leaning against the sterile white brick wall of the hospital fighting severe exhaustion. The three of them just maintained these positions for a few more minutes before the doctor came walking through the corridor out to them.

"Are you three here for Harmon Rabb?" The doctor inquired looking at Mac and Peach then at Nate who was leaning against the wall opposite them. Mac nodded and got up to stand toe to toe with the doctor. "My suspicions were confirmed, Captain Rabb has suffered a very mild version of an acute subdural haematoma. The morphine that he was injected with on the ride here, slowed the progress of the bleeding into his brain. We have to operate immediately to rectify this problem. The surgery is long, it's also very delicate and very risky. Lucky for you, the best neurosurgeon in the South Pacific operates out of this hospital. You need to sign this consent form." The doctor produced a form and handed it to Mac.

"You still have Harm's medical proxy, right Mac?" Nate asked, not meeting her eyes.

"As far as I know." Mac took the form from the doctor and read it over. "How risky is this surgery, doctor?"

"This isn't an everyday occurrence, ma'am but the surgery is routine enough that the risks are comparatively minimal and the Captain should retain completely normal brain function. The CT Scan and MRI weren't as bad as some I've seen. I feel it necessary to inform you that in cases such as these, amnesia is a common symptom, so it is unlikely that the Captain will remember anything since the trauma." The doctor's words cut through Mac like a scalpel. "If his trauma is anything to go by, not remembering what caused it would likely be beneficial."

Mac nodded absently. Harm wasn't going to remember. That was just perfect. "Just perform the surgery, bring Harm back to us, please." Mac pleaded as she handed the consent form back to the doctor. The doctor nodded at Mac before turning and heading back down the corridor toward the OR.

"Alright, the doc said it was going to be a long surgery. Mac why don't you go and get cleaned up and everything, Peach, you too. I'll stay here and wait for information. Mac, you come back in a few hours and relieve me. The surgery should be nearly over by that point." Nate began to lightly pace back and forth.

"Yet another good plan, you've had a lot of those since we left the States. Did you have a bowl of wheaties before we left?" Mac joked, mustering a weak smile.

"See you in a few hours, Mac?" Nate suggested. Mac nodded in agreement. "See you back at the hotel, Peach?"

"Yeah, Nate, see you then." Peach hugged Nate and then headed down the corridor to the lobby with Mac. Nate took a seat where Mac had been previously sitting. He just leaned forward, his elbows digging into his knees and his head in his hands. The last week had been a hell from which escape always seemed out of reach.

2105 LOCAL

MANILA HOTEL

MANILA, PHILIPPINES

Mac had gone to sit at the hospital with Gunny a half hour ago. There were three rooms rented by the Company for the uses of the six people who had gone through the affair on Borneo. Gunny and Mike were to share a room that Mike was now the only one occupying there would be one for Harm and Mac since she was judged by the group to be the most capable of taking care of a wounded Harmon Rabb who had just gotten out of major surgery.

This meant that the last room was for Nate and Peach. Nate staggered in. He existed now in that realm of consciousness which lies between tired and dead. He needed a hot shower to scrub the seventeen hour old paint off his face and hands He stripped down to his boxers as he walked across the room and grabbed a towel. He opened the door to the bathroom only to get hit in the face by a cloud of steam.

"You here to do my back?" Peach's head was visible over the shower curtain.

"Oh, sorry, Peach, I didn't realize that you were in here." Nate went to retreat but stopped. "That showerhead is whisper quiet."

"Yeah, it…uh…I noticed that." Peach stuttered, her eyes locked with his. "So, are you going to wash my back or what?"

"What!" Nate was stunned by the courage of her question. Then he thought for a second. "Oh, did you hurt your shoulder or something?" Ask a stupid question.

"Does there have to be a reason?" Peach's voice dropped to a dangerously seductive tone. Nate knew that certain things had to be set right in his life before anything could actually transpire down here in Manila.

"I have to make a phone call, first. I'll be back though." He quickly grinned before slinking out the bathroom door. He grabbed his pants off the floor and fished through the pockets for his cell. After finding it, he went walking out to the balcony to place a call.

"Stacy Anderson." The voice came on the other end of the line.

"Hi, it's Nate." Nate started.

"Nate, where are you?" She asked with slightly more excited tone.

"I can't tell you that. Listen, we really need to have a talk." He launched right in. After all, he'd faced a camp full of terrorists today, there was nothing else to be afraid of.

"This is the break up call isn't it?" Stacy asked. "Listen, Nate, I've been thinking about it, too. There are just too many incompatibilities here. We want different things for starters, not to mention the fact that the second Peach gets into trouble, your life becomes expendable in your own mind and you'll run off to any corner of the earth in order to save her."

"How did you know?" Yet another surprise was able to sideswipe Nathan Ross.

"It wasn't tough. There are only a handful of people that you would run off after without telling me, all of them but one are still here in the States. Stands to reason that whatever you ran off to fight, Peach had something to do with it." Stacy stated simply. "I'm not angry. Far from it, I was a fool, we both were. I just want the answer to one question."

"I think you're entitled." Nate tapped his fingers on the railing of the balcony.

"Did you do anything that would constitute cheating on me?" Stacy asked, he TV superficiality showing ever so slightly.

"No, I haven't." Nate moved back toward the door to the room.

"That Ross integrity still in tact as always. I do suppose this is the end. Count on me to vote for you when the time comes." She joked lightly and even Nate laughed as Stacy hung up the phone. Nate tossed his cell on to the nightstand and headed back toward the bathroom just as Peach was coming out.

"Were you actually coming to wash my back?" She quirked an eyebrow with interest.

"We'll never know now." Nate smiled as he ran his index finger along the soft cotton of her towel.

"Uh, yeah, guess we'll never know. Where are you going?" She asked as he moved passed her.

"To wash this paint off my face and the vegetation out of my hair." Nate stepped back through the door and smiled at her before closing the door behind him.

SAME TIME

HOSPITAL OF MANILA

MANILA, PHILIPPINES

Gunny sat in a chair as Mac paced in the waiting room. There was going to be no calming her down until Harm was out of surgery and Gunny realized that. So, rather then try, he figured that it was better to just let her pace. Mac was gnawing on her fingernails, tapping on every wooden surface available and basically doing every single mind numbing, boredom indicating exercise, humanly possible.

There were times that Gunny was sure that he was going to have to run into the OR himself to ask the doctor how much longer it was going to be. "Colonel, ma'am, I just wanted to say that I think that you and Captain Rabb really have a chance this time."

"I wish I shared your optimism, Gunny." Mac turned to face her fellow Marine.

"He did say that he loved you, ma'am. Now, whether or not a man has a head injury, those are some tough words to get out." Gunny was trying to comfort Mac in the best way he knew how.

"Except, knowing Harm, he won't remember and I won't be able to talk about it with him so it'll just add another layer to all this tension between us." Mac began to ramble as she sat down next to Gunny.

"Ma'am, you flew ten thousand miles, trekked through jungle and killed three people to save his life. That's how Marines say 'I love you'." Gunny protested and Mac had to laugh. "You and the Captain are just two people who need each other, ma'am. There's no getting around that. Everyone at JAG, we just try and ignore it but we all see it, too. I think you and the Captain need to talk."

"Of course we _need_ to talk, that's exactly why we won't." Mac was completely humourless in her statement. Just as the Gunny was about to dig deeper into what was going on, the doctor appeared, still in his OR scrubs.

"Miss MacKenzie?" The doctor asked, Mac nodded, got up and walked over to him. "The surgery was textbook. We were able to control the bleeding sites between the dura and the arachnoid. We removed the blood clot without any difficulty and the Craniotomy scars are expected to heal nicely. We're going to keep under observation here for a while until I think that the risks of postoperative infection, seizures or intracranial pressure have subsided. Once he's settled in his room, a nurse will take you up to see him."

"Thank you, doctor." Mac was nodding solemnly, the doctor turned back toward the OR and Mac let out a heavy breath. "Well, it all sounds like it went well. I guess that's all I could hope for."

"We'll be in to see him in a few minutes, ma'am. I'm sure that you'll feel better when you can see him." Gunny's reassurances were now getting weaker.

"I'm not sure how many more times I can do this, Gunny. How many more times can I seem him inches from death and feel like I was absolutely helpless to stop it?" Mac was nearing tears yet again.

"But don't you see, Ma'am? You did stop it. If we hadn't shown up when we did, the Captain would have died out in the jungle. _You_ are the major reason that he's still alive, yet again. It was _you_ who pulled him out of the ocean last year remember? You're never helpless where he's concerned. I think if anything, ma'am, the reason you're hit so hard is because for you, it's all too real." Gunny's mind was going at full composure to bring back Mac's composure.

"God, I knew there was a reason we brought you along, Gunny." Mac put her hand on Gunny's shoulder to thank him.

"I'm great in a clinch, ma'am." Gunny smiled wisely as the nurse came down the hallway toward them. This was it; Mac was yet again going to have to face Harm in a hospital bed. Something that never got any easier.

"Miss MacKenzie, if you'll follow me, I'll take you to Mr. Rabb's room now." The Nurse was a sweet older lady. Mac and Gunny followed the nurse as she led them through the hallways to the elevator. The seconds spent in the elevator seemed to drag on as the elevator carried them up to the fifth floor. The doors opened and the nurse led them out of the elevator and down the hallway. They stopped as she opened the door to the room for them. "He's still under anaesthesia but he should be coming out soon. It would serve him better if you were here when he came out so the doctor has extended visiting hours for you."

Mac stepped into the room and walked over to Harm's bedside. Sitting in a chair that she found there, she took his larger hand in hers. "Hey." She whispered to his limp form and thus began her wait for Harm to regain consciousness.

2214 LOCAL

MANILA HOTEL

MANILA, PHILIPPINES

Nate lay in the bed, fingering idly through a copy of _The Sun Also Rises_ that he had picked up in a bookstore a block from the hotel. He'd never been so nervous in his life about sleeping in his boxers. In fact, he was sure that if he had packed any pyjamas, he would most definitely be wearing them right now. But he had never been good at packing a suitcase. So, there he lay, in his boxers, on the right side of the bed, the desk lamp on and a book in his hand. Nate couldn't keep his eyelids propped up any longer so he put the book down on the nightstand.

Peach came walking out from the bathroom wearing a negligee to match her nickname and rose incredibly high on her leg, in the back it just barely covered her rear. Nate's eyes practically popped out of his head when he saw her come walking toward the bed. Not sure whether to curse or thank the heavens at this point, Nate did what any other man on the planet would do, gawk like a teenage boy.

"You see something you like?" She asked bravely as she followed his line of vision. Nate tried to say something, anything but found himself incapable of speech. "It's okay, Nate, I've known for quite a while that you like my legs."

"What!" Nate gulped heavily after getting the one word out in a surprised shout.

"You never exactly hid that very well. The first day I wore a skirt into work, I think you made eye contact all of four times." Peach climbed into the left side of the bed and slipped under the cover but she turned on her side to face him. Nate knew he had to recover his footing; she had him on the defensive.

"Did I do something particularly nasty to you recently?" Nate asked trying to regain his place.

"Not recently; why would you ask a question like that?" Peach was confused by Nate's switch in demeanour.

"I'm just trying to think of a reason why you would wear _that_ while sleeping in a bed with me." Nate commented as he switched off the desk lamp.

"Oh, I'm so sorry; my flannels were in my other suitcase." She sounded sarcastic and playfully smacked him on the shoulder. "Loosen up, I bought it today because I thought it would look pretty."

"The 'how to wash' tag is the biggest and most opaque piece of material on that thing!" Nate protested, turning to face her and trying to keep his eyes on hers.

"Your point being?" Peach replied with sly tone.

"Nothing, I have no point other then the fact that I need sleep." Nate had reverted to Plan B and that was, when one is trapped, shut down the conversation.

"Oh come on, Nate; what are you thinking about." Peach turned Nate back over to face her.

"I'm not telling you, because I'm not thinking it. Therefore I refuse to give any credence to the thought of saying it out loud." Nate shut his eyes and laid on his back.

"Uh oh, Princeton Diction Alert. You've gone into personal crisis mode." Peach cajoled as she pushed his shoulder.

"Have not!" Nate retorted with the efficiency of an adolescent.

"Have to." Peach shot back.

"Have not!" Nate was getting slightly irritated.

"Fine, then tell me what you were thinking about?" Peach raised herself over him in the push-up position.

"Why do you want to know so badly?" Nate questioned.

"I've always wanted to get into your head. What I really want to know, is why you flew six thousand miles, used the same sniper rifle you last used when you made the shot that day with Preston and then finally the looks you've been giving me ever since you saw me at the camp." Her arms were tiring and she lowered herself ever so slightly closer to Nate.

"I…I…I…just don't know. For once in my life, the mantra of having the answers has failed, is that what you want to hear? That knowing you died, that I'd never see your face again probably would have killed me and not in a figurative way." Nate was starting to ramble a little. "I was…hell, I still am scared. What I'm most scared of is the last thought that went through my head before the raid on the camp this morning."

"Talk to me, tell me what was going through your head." Peach pleaded, allowing herself to collapse on his chest.

"All I could think about was the last nine years. All I could think about was how no matter what I had to get you out of there alive, at any cost. That's why I told the President that I didn't care about his nomination, that's why I pulled that rifle out of the back of a closet and that's why I flew six thousand miles. For you, for everything that's happened in the last nine years and because none of it mattered at all if you weren't here with me." Nate came out with the explanation.

"Wait, what nomination?" Peach stopped his ranting.

"The morning that I found out, Gavin called me to tell me that the President was going to nominate me to permanently fill the Secretary of State's chair. I was heading into the confirmation announcement and the first day of hearings when I found out about you and Harm. I told him that I was going after you and the only way he could stop me was to kill me. He told me that I was throwing a promising political career down the toilet and I told him that without you it didn't mean a damn thing anyway." Nate watched as Peach rolled off his chest and stood next to the bed.

"You have to understand that this is a lot for me to take in." Peach raised a hand to her chest. "I mean, in the nine years I've known you, the only time you ever put someone ahead of your work was when you had to go to your brother's funeral."

"Every trial endured and weathered in the right spirit makes a soul nobler and stronger then it was before." Nate quoted as he got out of bed.

"Please tell me that wasn't Oscar Wilde, we have bad luck with Oscar Wilde." Peach was starting to feel weak, just as she had felt in the park in Dublin.

_(Cue "Patience" by Guns'n'Roses)_

"Yeats." Nate said with a smile as he raised his hands, placed them on her shoulders and slowly rubbing her upper arms. "You feel cold."

"I'm scared." She whispered as he inched closer.

"Why?" He asked quietly, his eyes daringly looking her over.

"Because the rules are changing." She felt him step closer to her and she felt the warmth of his hands begin to warm her.

"What rules?" He took her small hands in his.

"_The_ rules……the boundaries that define our relationship. The ones that we've always been so careful to adhere to. We were always friends, coworkers and even best friends but now, the lines are being erased and I don't know what you're trying to tell me." She looked up into his eyes and found them darkened with lust.

"I think I'm in love with you." Nate whispered. "That was my last thought today before the operation started. It was all I could think about when I had to make that shot today and it was all I could think about when I first hugged you today. Nine years was a lot of time to waste."

"I don't know what to say to that." Peach's voice carried a softness as she moved into him. "Other then this." She leaned up and caught his lips quickly with hers. She brought her arms up around his neck and held him close against her. To let him know that she was really there, that nothing of this had been dreamed. She felt his hands move around her waist to her back and she couldn't help but smile at where the journey of nine years had finally led them.

When they pulled away, Nate was the first to be able to speak again. "What was the smile for?" She pushed him back on to the bed.

"Is it wrong for me to be happy about this?" She asked as she climbed on to the bed and straddled his hips. He smiled fondly as he watched her take her position. The peach coloured negligee slowly riding further up her thighs.

"No. What we've been doing since Dublin, that's what has been wrong with us." Nate answered but she pressed her index finger to his lips, then followed her finger with a quick kiss.

"Shhh." She hushed him. She started to slowly kiss his lips and then his neck as she hunched over him. She felt his hands travel up her legs and she had to smile again. She always knew that her legs were an object of desire in his mind and now that he had touched them she felt revered cherished as his hands moved from her legs to her hips and then in a feather light way, touching her back and inciting electric shivers through every nerve ending in her body. She sat back up on her heels, her hair thrown back. She lovingly reached down and took his hands in hers. "Such powerful; instruments, a sniper's hands." She commented lightly as she bit her lower lip

Nate's luck being what it was with timing lately, Mike Bradley popped in through the door at that point. "Hey Nate, I...whoa!" Mike reeled back upon seeing what was going on in the hotel room. "I see I'm interrupting."

"You certainly are." Nate growled as Peach rolled off of him. "Why did you come barging in here?"

"Oh yeah, that." Mike might have been married but that still didn't change the sight that Peach made in her negligee. "I just got a call from the hospital. Harm's awake."

"That's great!" Peach was smiling as she got up off the bed. "Did Mac say when we could go and see him? I'm assuming it was Mac who called you."

"_Gunny_ said that the doctor extended visiting hours for him because of the amnesia side effect and that we could go see him tonight. Seems like we're going to be running you ragged for a few more hours, buddy." Mike gave Nate a pat on the shoulder before heading out of the room and having the door slammed behind him.

"Looks like we might as well get dressed. Pity letting a good negligee like that go to waste." Nate turned and shamelessly eyed Peach.

"It's not going to waste, but it's going to have to wait." She quipped as she tossed his clothes at him.

0012 LOCAL

HOSPITAL OF MANILA

MANILA, PHILIPPINES

Mac was sitting by Harm's bedside for a while waiting for him to come out of the anaesthesia. It had been a few minutes since the nurse left them. She lightly stroked his hand as she pleaded for the ability to once again see those blue eyes open. She ran a hand along his hairline, where the bandages now bordered his forehead, and down his cheek. Gunny waited out in the hall to greet Nate and the others as they came back from the hotel.

Harm tried to roll over in his sleep as he came too. Mac watched as Harm yawned and then slowly opened his eyes. "Mac?" His dry mouth was able to get out.

"Hey, sailor." Mac smiled as she welcomed him back to the land of the living. "You gave us quite a scare."

"Where am I?" He shook his head from side to side. "The last thing I remember was being dragged back into the hut where they were beating the crap out of me." Harm looked around. "Where's Nicole? Did she get out alright?"

"Yeah, she got out alright. You're the one we were worried about." Mac rang the buzzer to let the doctor know that Harm was awake and within a few seconds, the doctor was in the room. The doctor did all the necessary tests on Harm's motor skills and brain function. Mac held Harm's hand throughout the whole thing, something that didn't get lost on either of them. After making a few marks on Harm's chart and exchanging a little small talk, he was off on his way again.

"Mac, what happened?" Harm sounded groggy as he squeezed her hand.

"When we found out that you guys had been caught in an ambush, Gunny, Nate and I decided to take off and try and find you guys. Which we eventually did. Yesterday morning, we pulled you and Peach out of the camp. You had sustained a serious head injury, so we didn't take any risks in transporting you here. We got you here as soon as possible." Mac explained as Gunny re-entered the room.

"You should have seen her, sir. Colonel MacKenzie was like Rambo Barbie." Gunny laughed and Harm did too, but he quickly held his ribs.

"Don't make me laugh, Gunny." Harm smiled at the look on Mac's face. Gunny noticed the look too and quickly covered his six.

"Sorry ma'am, that one was just too good for me to pass it up." Gunny stood up and retreated back out the door.

"I think you scared him off, Ninja-girl." Harm muttered and Mac had to smile at the use of a long unheard endearment. Gunny peaked his head back in at that moment.

"Ma'am, we've got some visitors out here who request to see the Captain. Your orders, ma'am?" Gunny tried to sound as official as possible.

"Tell the Major and his friends that they can come in as long as they promise not to rouse the patient." Mac chuckled as Mike, Nate and Peach pushed by Gunny and entered the room carrying a big brown teddy bear that said "Get well soon" in Filipino.

"Looks like you're on the mend." Mike gave Harm a pat on the shoulder with his remaining good arm.

"Yeah well, no thanks to you. From what I hear, it took a gang of jarheads to save me. I'll never live it down when I talk to the CNO again." Harm smiled weakly as he reached out and took the bear from them.

"Thanks……you know……for keeping me alive." Peach's voice grew sentimental as she addressed Harm.

"Looks like you've made the most out of your renewed lease on life." Harm lifted his hand and extended his index finger to indicate the point at which Peach's hand intertwined with Nate's. Gunny had noticed it earlier but rather then make anything of it, he just smiled and nodded.

Mac on the other hand went wide-eyed when she saw it. She remembered the scene in the airport back in Washington and felt the need to ensure that Nate was doing the right thing as he promised back in the States. "Harm, I just have to step outside for a second with Nate to talk with the doctor about something. We'll be back in a few minutes okay?" Mac smiled a lightly grazed Harm's cheek with her fingers. Harm nodded and Mac walked out of the room, Nate following fast on her heels after having been tossed a rather mean scowl.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Mac demanded as they stepped out into the hallway.

"You mean by holding the hand of the woman I love I have violated some weird article in Filipino law?" Nate crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"What about the girlfriend back in Washington. Remember? Miss ZNN Exclusive, or did you forget about that little road block? I'm not one to interfere with people's personal live normally but the last thing Peach needs after the week she's had is to be led on by you." Mac argued with a very persuasive anger-sarcasm combination.

"You don't think I at least have the class to make sure I'm single before I get involved with someone?" Nate questioned with the same sharp edge.

"I don't know, I never would have thought you would keep a relationship secret from me." Peach remarked as she walked out of Harm's hospital room.


	21. And the Heart Must Pause to Breathe

_A/N: Sorry this one took a while, but with school over we're forced to commiserate on the story via Instant Messaging and that's not so easy when you're all working different hours._

1652 ZULU

JAG HEADQUARTERS

FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

The Admiral had been a little more cheerful since he'd gotten the word from the Deputy Director of Central Intelligence around 0900 this morning. This was in stark contrast to the rest of the week where he had been acting like a lion with a thorn in his paw. Now he had news, Harm and Mac were both alive and on their way home. The director had described their mission as an overwhelming success and had even joked about enlisting the help of Marines more often.

The Admiral had decided against telling Commander Turner or Lieutenant Sims-Roberts until just before lunch so that they would have time to digest the news. So, when the time came, the Admiral had told Tiner to have Sturgis and Harriet report to his office. He had news for them; he would have preferred to have made the second announcement when Harm and Mac had gotten back but Harm's doctors said that would be ten days at the inside.

So, instead of waiting, he figured it best to just inform Harriet, Sturgis and Tiner now, then wait until Harm and Mac came back since Bud would be returning from sea duty around the same time. Chances were, Bud would find out from Harriet long before then anyway. A few minutes before noon; Turner and Sims would be in his office any minute, followed of course by Tiner and if his timing was right, Bev would enter the office just as he prepared.

"Commander Turner and Lieutenant Sims reporting as ordered, sir." Sturgis piped up as they came to attention in front of the Admiral's desk.

"At ease." The Admiral addressed them. "Since you two expressed interest in knowing, I think it's time to tell you that I received news on Colonel MacKenzie and Captain Rabb from Langley this morning. They made it out of Indonesia alright and the Captain is currently being treated for wounds in a Manila Hospital. That's all you two are cleared to know. Due to the nature of the Captain's injuries, his arrival home will be delayed by a few days."

"Well sir, considering the possible outcomes, one can be thankful that things turned out as well as they. They could have been much worse." Sturgis answered. "Will there be anything else, sir?" It was at that moment that Beverly Ross walked in behind Sturgis and Harriet. She caught the Admiral's eye and he smiled.

"Commander, does your father do weddings?" The Admiral asked Sturgis went from looking relieved to looking puzzled.

"As I remember, yes, sir." Sturgis answered, looking from Harriet over to the Admiral. "May I ask why, sir?"

"Because we're getting married." Bev answered as she finally walked passed the two officers and over to AJ's desk.

"Congratulations, ma'am!" Harriet squealed as she immediately enveloped Beverly in a hug. "Oh, this is wonderful, ma'am!"

"Mazel tov, Admiral." Sturgis mused with a smile and he even gave the Admiral a congratulatory pat on the shoulder.

0103 LOCAL

HOSPITAL OF MANILA

MANILA, PHILIPPINES

"I don't know, I never would have thought you would keep a relationship secret from me." Peach remarked as she walked out of Harm's hospital room.

"I kept it secret from the world, it's tough when your personal life can be turned into tabloid fodder. You want to know why I didn't say anything?" Nate looked from Peach to Mac and then back at Peach. "Two intelligent women and neither of you has a guess?" Nate started walking toward Mac. "You went to Duke Law, you ask questions for a living, _your job_ is to have the answers, but you got nothing." Then he turned in his tirade toward Peach. "And I can't get snotty with you because I'm within millimetres of hurting you, if I haven't already, so I'm not going to risk hurting you any more then I possibly already have." Nate paused for a few seconds. "So since neither of you has any idea why I didn't say anything, why don't I tell you. It didn't matter, it still doesn't. It has been a very long day, I have killed thirteen people and if I don't get some sleep soon that number is going to skyrocket." He took a deep breath. "Mac, give Harm my regards. You," Nate turned back toward Peach, "were you looking forward to sharing a bed tonight or do I have to go back to the hotel alone?"

"Just answer one question." Peach stated reluctantly.

"Yes." Nate answered firmly.

"I didn't ask the question." Peach looked confused.

"I'm tired therefore I'm telepathic, the answer to your question is yes, right now I am currently single and I have been for a few hours thanks to the wonders of wireless technology. So, are we sharing a bed tonight so that we can both wake up tomorrow morning looking into each other's eyes like lovesick puppies or what?" Nate yawned openly. By this time, Mac had gone back into Harm's hospital room.

"You know, you get really sarcastic when you're tired." Peach slowly walked over and took his hand.

"You know, you're incredibly hot when I'm wide awake but when I'm tired and you're a little pissed off, you're sexy enough to make my blood boil. Now, either you and I head back to the hotel via the shoe leather express or I throw you over my shoulder and carry you, what's it gonna be?" Nate's patience was obviously wearing thin.

"Nate, I want to ask you a question." Peach stood firm.

"Can it be asked in the hotel room?" Nate retorted. Peach simply rolled her eyes and pressed on.

"Why?" She asked quietly.

"I thought we covered this already." Nate sighed.

"No, cut the fucking bullshit, Nathan and be honest with me because this whole week has just been one massive idiocy which seems to refuse to end and all I want from you amidst all of it is a little honesty. Why did you do all this? Why did you break up with your girlfriend? Why did you give up your dream job? Why were you willing to put a political bullet through your chance of ever being President? And finally, why did you fly 6000 miles and almost get yourself killed?" She was somewhere between shouting and crying.

"I would have thought the answer to every one of those questions was incredibly obvious." Nate answered with his typical juvenile sense of timing and wit. "I'm in love with you."

"Yeah, this week. I'm sure that Stacy heard the same thing last week and Rose heard it for the two years that you were married and God knows how many times during the years you were engaged. What I want to know is for how long? How long before I start to realize you're spending more and more time at the office? How long before I realize that the last time I heard I love you needs to be determined in figures of weeks and months?" Now she was crying.

"What do you want from me? You want me to be Prince Charming? I think I did a pretty fair imitation in the jungle this morning. The Ghillie suit may be no suit of armour but I went with what was available. You want me to give you guarantees? I can't, because there's nothing about the outside world that I can guarantee for you. I can however promise you that as long as there is breath in my body and blood in my veins, I will protect you from all that is evil of this world. I can promise that even if I can't always find time to say it, I will never stop loving you. I can promise to give of myself to you until I can't physically do so any more.

Stacy never heard me tell her I loved her and Rose stopped hearing it. It makes me a bad person to admit that I never really loved either of them but I didn't. I do love you." Nate reached out to hug her. Peach paused for a second and looked at him. He made quite a sight, a man with all the dignity and magnetism that his ears as a diplomat could grant him had run with ragged edges of sleep depravation and exhaustion.

"Nathan, we've had nine years, why now?" Peach asked, composing herself enough to look at him with tear glossed eyes.

"Because before, I thought I needed to protect you from me and I thought that the only way to do that was to distance you from me. I never realized that if you and I actually decided to face something head on, we both had the best chance of getting through it." Nate answered.

"But nine years, don't you think if it was meant to happen, it would have happened by now? It shouldn't have taken my facing death to bring these feelings out. What happened between us earlier in the hotel, that was nine years of pent up sexual tension that came with trying to affirm our own existence. I can't be someone you turned to because you were afraid I was going to die, a relationship like that would only do more damage to whatever this thing is between us." Peach watched as Nate's posture and expression fell through the floor. "It's better that we just take this as it is." She softly put a hand on his shoulder and walked passed him toward the door to the hospital. Nate stood there dumbfounded for a second and then sank to the chair in the hallway.

In the lonesome, dark hallway of the Hospital of Manila, a few notes of an old harmony could be heard, the words carrying their own meaning for one lost man as the local radio station broadcast a now poignant philosophical question: What Becomes of the Broken-hearted?

In the hospital room, Mac was still sitting by Harm's bedside as Gunny and Mike finished up talking to him and joking about the shape that their friend was in. Mac was always so aware of Harm's mortality, his fragility when he was laid up in a hospital bed from the first time when he had gotten hit by that car when they were running to after his swim in the Atlantic right before her almost catastrophe/mockery of a wedding with Brumby. He watched as Harm laughed along with Mike's jokes and took Gunny's respectful sarcasm with all the grace and attitude that he always had. After a few more minutes, they left the room.

"Hey there, sailor, looks like I've finally got you alone." Mac smiled sheepishly as she lightly brushed his brow.

"I suppose that means you're going to go all Mac the Marine nurse on me in order to make me get better." Harm laboured a blink.

"I'm just happy that you're getting better. What's the last thing you remember? The doctor said that you might incur some short term memory loss starting with the time when the initial trauma was incurred. What's the last thing you remember?" Mac edged her chair ever closer to the side of the bed and reached for his hand.

"I remember, the two guards that normally barged into the hut, they came in and pulled me up from the floor and dragged me across the compound to their quarters where they normally brutalized me. They took out the bamboo canes and just pounded the hell out of me, I remember them using razor blades. This time the one of them, I think his name might have been Aziz, he took one of the canes and cracked me over the side of the head. I really don't remember anything after that." Harm lightly shook his head from side to side.

"The doctor said that you're not supposed to do that." Mac smiled as she stroked his knuckles with a feather touch.

"Nurse MacKenzie already? Does it come with the cute little white outfit?" Harm had a brightness in his eyes as he spoke.

"As wounded as you are and you can still fire up that flyboy playbook. Well, I might rent the costume but only if you're good." Mac teased with a light fire in her eyes.

"I was scared, Mac. I've been scared before in my life but never like I was in that hut. I mean, my ramp strike, the accident in the Atlantic, they were all terrifying but none as terrifying as being in that jungle. The reason that it was so bad in that hut was that there was no conceivable end, no escape, no other options. I couldn't let anyone, especially not her go through what I was going through, not because I'm a man and I'm stronger but because if it had been you and Nate in that hut, he would have done anything to prevent it from being you that they bludgeoned, you that they sliced so cruelly, I did it for her, because he would have done it for you……because I wouldn't think twice about making the sacrifice for you." Harm bowed his head for a second. "It's a rare thing, you know, to find someone that you're willing to go that far for." Harm yawned and raised a hand over the bandages on his scalp.

"Go to sleep, Harm. We'll talk more in the morning, the doctor says you need some sleep." Mac coached as Harm leaned back on the pillows. Mac tightly took his hands between hers.

"Mac, I know this is going to sound really weird coming from me but, could you perhaps, curl up on the bed with me? I hate to presume on our friendship but I really can't feel alone tonight." Harm gave her his best puppy dog look. Rather then answer with words, Mac simply got up out of her chair and crawled up into the hospital bed with Harm. She lay on her side with her hand on his chest looking up at him.

"Like this?" She asked just above a whisper.

"Just like that." Harm gently ran a hand through her hair. After a few seconds, the two of them had fallen asleep on the bed in a position that any human being in their right mind would think to be a position of intimacy when in reality it was yet another loop in what had become a rollercoaster relationship.

The wee hours of the morning crept on and the two of them slept peacefully together amidst the beeping of the monitors and computers that told the physiological story of one life that now found another permanently attached to it. Harm's chest rose and fell through the night and one could see Mac rise and fall from her sleeping position on her chest. Harm began to toss and turn violently, Mac rising out of her slumber as he convulsed more violently.

A few more seconds passed and what had started out as mere violent convulsions had grown beyond that into growing murmurs of discontent and then words began to form out of the murmurs. Mac could only decipher rampant repetitions of the word 'no' over and over as she waited for Harm to wake up. She slowly began to here Harm shout in his sleep as his movements became more violent still. Finally, his eyes flew open and Harm found himself hyperventilating and drenched in sweat.

"Harm, what's wrong?" Mac asked as she sat up next to him and ran one hand down his forearm.

"It all……it all seemed so real. I don't remember it, but it all seemed to real. The heat, the stinging of the bamboo canes, the rusting scratch of the blades as they tore into my skin; the screams of pain, it all seemed too real and so horrifying." Harm breathed heavily as Mac tried her best to be supportive and calm him down.

"I'm here, just remember that. Whatever you need, I'm here for you." She held his head to her chest in order to soothe him.

"You're so good to me. Why?" Harm asked lightly as moonlight through the window began to blanket them. Mac was momentarily reminded of a similar night in Harm's apartment where her sleep troubles had led him to comfort her and landed her with a few moments of tenderness and the new nom de guerre of "ninja-girl".

"I remember this old song, it goes: 'close your eyes, I'm right beside you. Run for miles, you know I'll find you. If you need a friend, close your eyes, I'm back again'. I always knew one day that I would be that close to someone. Part of my sanity is you Harmon Rabb, and I need to keep you around to stay sane." Mac smiled as they lay back down on the pillow.

"Trust me, Sarah; it's mutual." Harm said as he wrapped his arms around her and the two of them fell back into sleep.

0837 LOCAL

HOSPITAL OF MANILA

MANILA, PHILIPPINES

"They expect you to run the country, but you spend the night in a hospital chair in your clothes? Nathan, you disappoint me." Moshe kicked Nate's boots with his own to wake up his godson.

"I had a long night." Nate was groggy.

"I gathered as much. Your face reads of regret, like you would drown yourself in a bottle if presented with the option. Tell me why this is my godson." Moshe sat next to Nate and put his hand on the younger man's back.

"My reason for coming here went up in flames last night; like a cherry bomb on the fourth of July." Nate leaned forward, elbows digging into his knees.

"It is oft said of the Jews that when logic fails for our rationale, we turn our eyes to God. Even if your initial reason for coming here went bust, you still can take great pride in the fact that you brought a major international terrorist to justice and you saved the lives of many innocent people while taking the lives of many dangerous ones. You had a reason for coming to Indonesia, Nathan. You just have to stop looking at God and start looking at yourself in order to see it." Moshe stated with a typical Jewish wisdom and mysticism.

"No wonder my dad keeps a list of occasions on which he's wanted to wipe that smug Yekke smile off your face." Nate cracked a crooked smile. "Nothing can make up for what I lost last night. For once I stopped thinking about myself and my career and all that noise and I stopped wanting to take on the world alone. I admitted to myself that I actually needed someone else."

"Not an easy thing for a stubborn Scotsman to do." Moshe joked with a characteristic Jewish sarcasm.

"No, it isn't. The thing is, that she doesn't need me." Nate dropped his head into his hands. When he lifted them again, his eyes had glossed over with unshed tears. "Why did you come here?"

"I felt the need to tell you that, while we were incredibly brutal with our methods, Bashram eventually talked. He gave us eighteen names and key intelligence on Hashawiri and Bin Laden. Among the names were Abu Ziyda, Hassan Mourari and Sadiq Fahd. We handed him over to the CIA early this morning, he's going to Guantanamo for detention." Moshe answered with a heavy exhale. "The President has been informed. I've been told that after you get back to Washington and after your pending confirmation hearings, you'll host a top level meeting of Foreign Ministers from Britain, Canada, Israel, Germany and France, the topics will be what to do with these eighteen names. I also came because I wished to see you off since you will be leaving soon. I do get to spend such little time with you."

"I think I need work again, I need something to get my mind off of everything." Nate answered as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Do not remove your mind from this matter but consider it more thoroughly. Find a place to focus your thoughts. Volunteer with your sister's parish." Moshe coached as the two of them got up out of the chairs.

"I don't know, Moshe. So much of my life seems so pointless now." Nate answered as they turned toward Harm's hospital room door. Moshe lightly pushed the door open to reveal Harm and Mac cuddled together on the hospital bed.

"I'm sure there is a time at which so much of their lives seemed pointless. Eventually, Nathan, your time will come. The puzzle will fall into place. You're like Moses, doomed to wander the desert for years before you find what you are looking for." Moshe mused.

"Moses had the option of stopping at an Exxon station, he _was _in the Middle East after all." Nate joked with a weak smile.

"It will all work again, Nathan. It's just broken right now." With that, Moshe turned and walked back out of the hospital, leaving Nate to stand in the middle of the hallway, once again all alone. After a few minutes of just pondering Karma and the nature of the universe, a man wearing an American Navy Commander's uniform approached him cautiously.

"Secretary Ross, sir?" The man hazarded a guess.

"Yes, Commander." Nate answered weakly.

"I'm Commander Chase, sir, the chief neurosurgeon at Bethesda, I was wondering if you could guide me to Captain Rabb's room. I've been ordered by CINCOMPAC to evaluate the Captain's condition and if possible take him into medical possession on board the John Kennedy." The fresh-faced Commander grinned at the cabinet member whom he held in awe.

"Of course, Commander, it's right through that door." Nate guided the young man to the door and pushed it wide open, to find Harm and Mac awake this time. "Guys, I just stopped by to say bye for now, I'm headed back to Washington. See you stateside?"

"You're on." Harm challenged, pointing his index finger at Nate.

"Alright, Captain Rabb, I'm Commander Chase the chief of neurosurgery at Bethesda, you'll have to excuse if I'm a little short with you since I've been on a Helo for the better part of the last sixteen hours in order to get here." The Commander began to examine Harm's bandages. "From what I was told by the attending, the Captain's surgery went pretty much as expected. He's a very lucky man, if his injury had been any more severe then it was or if any more time had elapsed before treatment, he would be one very dead squid."

"How is he now, Commander?" Mac jumped right in.

"He's in good shape all things considered. He's well enough for me to recommend that he be moved over to the medical centre on the Kennedy once he's up and mobile, which judging by his chart, should be tomorrow." Commander Chase made a few unintelligible marks on Harm's chart. "Orders from CINCOMPAC and the Chief of Naval Operation's offices are for you to remain aboard the USS Kennedy until such a time as I can be sure that the Captain can fly safely back home. When he arrives back in DC, I'm only releasing him from Naval Medical custody provided that he can be released into the custody of someone else for a period of time no shorter then two weeks."

"He can be released into my custody." Mac interjected.

"Mac……I wouldn't want to impose…" Harm tried to speak but Mac cut him off.

"You almost died, I'm fully able and willing to take care of you, end of discussion." Mac put a hand over Harm's mouth both to hush him and to illustrate her point. "Also doctor, Harm had a night terror last night. He woke up hyperventilating and screaming, is this normal with patients after this kind of surgery?"

"Not unheard of. Captain, can you tell me what the terror was about?" Commander Chase removed Mac's hand from Harm's mouth.

"It seemed like it was something from my time in detainment. I don't remember it but it fit in…you know…like a piece of the puzzle." Harm explained weakly.

"Could be the recovery of actual memory spaces. Like unlocking parts of your subconscious, since amnesia is a fairly common side effect with this kind of trauma and operation, it's entirely possible that you're just working through an amnesia induced fog space in your memory." Commander Chase re-hung the chart off the end of the bed. "It's possible and likely that your memory will slowly come back."

"So, it won't have a negative effect on his recovery?" Mac asked looking for confirmation.

"Quite the opposite, likely. The Captain will be transferred to the medical centre on board the Kennedy tomorrow, at which point I'll be on board for a week to monitor his condition. When I believe that he has sufficiently recovered, I'll head back stateside with him. Then he should be on the fast track to recovery. I'll see you two tomorrow, Captain, Colonel." With that, Commander Chase took his leave of his two senior officers.

_(Cue "Take it Outside" by Barenaked Ladies)_

"Harm, I have no problem taking care of you." Mac took his hand and lightly stroked it.

"I know, I just feel like hell, Mac and I don't want to be a burden on you." Harm offered a weak smile.

"Harmon Rabb, like it or not, after all these years, you're a part of my sanity and I'll loose that sanity if there's a chance that you can pass out and make me develop even better bedside manner then I already have had to develop in the years I've been your friend. Now get some rest, you need more then you're willing to admit."

1246 LOCAL

MANILA INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT

MANILA, PHILIPPINES

Nate had his bags slung over his shoulder and a ten year-old suit on his back. His hair was still mussed and the hair on his face was days passed a shave. He had what smelled like an ounce of cologne on his neck and a tired look on his face that would make him a nightmare for any manic-depressive. "Flight 68, flying Manila to Washington with a stopover in San Francisco is now boarding." Nate held out his boarding pass and ticket then walked through the gate to a nice cozy first class seat.

"Hey, you're headed home too?" Mike Bradley walked over and gave Nate a pat on the back. "Another mission well done, huh Marine?"

"Feels that way, Mikey. Feels that way." Nate chuckled as they walked through the gate toward the plane. Nate and Mike walked into the plane and into the first class section. Nate was about to put his bag in the overhead storage compartment when he saw Peach further down the aisle, he stopped for a second when their eyes met then angrily pushed the rest of his baggage into the compartment before taking his seat.

"So, have you talked to the President since you decided to run off to Indonesia?" Mike asked as he rolled his neck on the headrest of his seat.

"No, have you talked to the Director?" Nate answered quickly.

"Yeah, you're not his favourite person right now. Ever since you decided to run off on an unofficial, unsanctioned Company expensed vacation to the lovely South Pacific, everyone else in the USNSC has been turned into a veritable punching. Since it was discovered that you were the one who negotiated the terms by which the Israelis were able to torture the information out of Bashram and we still ended up with custody of him. You upgraded your status from prodigal son to daddy's favourite very rapidly." Mike mused.

"It's good to be well-liked." Nate joked as he put on a set of earphones and plugged into the movie.


	22. All Things Return to Their Elements

1413 ZULU

OVAL OFFICE

WASHINGTON, DC

Nate breezed passed the Presidential Secretary and to the door of the oval office and tapped on the door. "Go right in, Mr. Secretary." The Presidential Secretary motioned and Nate stepped through the door.

"Nathan, care to sit down and tell me what the hell you were thinking?" President Russell leapt out of his chair to face off against Nate's stature.

"I was thinking that Harmon Rabb was an American war hero who went on a diplomatic mission and got ambushed. I was subsequently thinking that Nicole DiPiccio was an Undersecretary of State who had faithfully served her country. Finally, the thought crossed my mind that it would be a real shot in the arm to this administration in particular and the war on terror as a whole to bring Ali Al-Bashram. Or was I wrong?" Nate inflated his chest and went toe to toe.

"You're one sly son of a bitch Democrat, you know that? You've got me by the short and curlies then once you know that you do, you pull in such a manner that I can't respond without looking like a ghoul. So, here's what's going to happen. To prevent you from growling and thrashing like a Democratic tiger, I'm going to let this one go because we all know that there isn't a damn thing I can do. So, you brought in a major international terrorist and saved the lives of two Americans, what do you want?" President Russell calmed down and sat in his chair.

"Nothing for myself. I did my job as a key American player in the war on terrorism. I want Navy Crosses for MacKenzie and Galindez, they selflessly sacrificed their lives and aided in the apprehension of a major terrorist, raiding a compound against numbers that were overwhelmingly against their favour and……" The President cut off Nate.

"I know, I read the briefing. Three Marines did exactly what they were trained to do but they did it without directives and with minimal CIA assistance not to mention the fact that they participated fully with the intelligence service of another nation and the only reason that you had State Department clearance to do so was that the Secretary of State was among the Marines on this little raid. Now you want me to reward two of these Marines with Navy Crosses?" The President was once again fighting a rising ire.

"Face it, Andrew, I went out there and did exactly what you couldn't order a squad of Marines to do. I shot and killed terrorists and I couldn't give a damn. This is plain and simple. When Al Qaeda knocked those buildings down last year, I was in the room with you. When you proclaimed a war on terrorism, I foolishly thought that our mission was to shoot and kill terrorists where and when we found them." Nate answered with ferociousness.

"You can't fight this war on your own." The President argued.

"We aren't fighting this war at all!" Nate shot back.

"You know why I chose you for this job? Besides being exceptionally qualified and the fact that you made my approval numbers jump up sixteen points in three days, this war means something to you. You're a Marine, you fought in Desert Storm, a war in this region means something to you and you're willing to do anything to make sure that the American people whom you see yourself as being responsible to, know that you're willing to make any and all sacrifices to win it for them. You _are_ Mr. Smith. You aren't in this for the glory, your own agenda, your political ambitions or the money. You are by nature a political animal and as such you are the only person in my cabinet willing to attach real strength and realpolitik to the term 'superpower'." Andrew Russell ran a hand over his scalp. "You have the potential to be the best Secretary of State since Kissinger. You're strongly Pro-Israel, strongly Pro-Europe and highly sceptical of the effectiveness of United Nations peacekeeping."

"My fangs aren't that sharp." Nate protested weakly.

"Name your three favourite statesmen from history, Nathan." President Russell demanded.

"Winston Churchill, Otto von Bismarck and Dean Acheson." Nate answered.

"An Englishman, a German and an American; you don't find that a little telling?" The President paused and then continued speaking. "Just get down to the confirmation hearings today. I'll lean on the Joint Chiefs who will in turn lean on the citations committee knowing that it's direct pressure from the top, it should pass rather quickly."

"I guess that's agreeable, you'll see me in front of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee this afternoon with a blue tie on, my hair slicked back and a demeanour that should scare those Senators into confirming me for the purposes of this administration." Nate shook hands with President Russell before heading out the door toward his office.

2202 LOCAL

USS JOHN .F. KENNEDY

SOMEWHERE IN THE PACIFIC

"You call the Admiral and get the next few days off?" Harm asked from a comfortable position in his bed in the medical centre of the carrier.

"I'm not on leave, I'm assigned temporarily as the supervisory JAG for the carrier group. The Admiral stills cares about you as one of his nearest and dearest friends and he wants to see you get better. It doesn't hurt that he's getting pressure from the incoming Secretary of State." Mac smiled lightly. "He's getting married."

"Nate?" Harm questioned sounding surprised.

"No, the Admiral; he proposed to Beverly Ross when all of us went running off after you into the Indonesian rainforest." Mac paused for a moment of quiet introspection. "So, the Admiral's getting married and Harriet found her house. Seems like everyone's retreating into suburbia."

"Feeling like the pieces of your life are being jumbled up again, Mac?" Harm asked weakly from the bed.

"Sometimes, none of it makes sense. I thought that by this point in my life I'd have it all figured out; my career, my personal life but none of it's falling into place. I have a stable career, sure but I have a fifty-fifty chance of being transferred out of DC after my next promotion. The only thing stable in my personal life is you. I have no husband, no kids, no real family structure; Chloe is further away and Uncle Matt is still in prison for three more years." Mac explained with a tad of melodrama.

"Come on, Mac, it's not all that bad. Like you said, you've got me." Harm offered with a sentimental sincerity. "I've got you, we can take on the world just like we always do; together."

"We have done that a lot haven't we?" Mac sat down on the edge of his bed.

"Am I interrupting a Hallmark moment?" A familiar voice came from the hatch.

"Keeter! What are you doing on this boat?" Harm's eyes lit up when he saw his old friend

"I heard you got your Eagles too. They gave me mine and gave me the CAG billet on this boat. I tell ya, boy, it's not like the good old days at the Yard where we used to get used to falling asleep drunk because we thought that the alcohol would make us stay awake long enough to get any decent amount of studying in. I heard you were on board and I figured I should stop by." Keeter worked his way over to the side of Harm's bed.

"Well, we were just talking about lives in flux, what about you? Any great descriptions of your own personal turmoil?" Harm chuckled lightly.

"Probably just the same stuff you guys have been saying. Good career courtesy of the United States Department of the Navy but even that's got to cap out some time. If I ever go anywhere from a CAG billet, it's to a desk at the Pentagon. No personal life to speak of, you know, the same career sailor spiel that most men in the Navy have been using since John Paul Jones." Keeter yawned and threw himself into a chair.

"You guys are making me feel depressed and guilty." Harm jibed.

"You just think that you've got the best career prospects and that's why you feel guilty?" Mac asked.

"Why? What does he think the Navy's going to let him do next; tap dance with Pam Anderson on the moon?" Keeter joked as he raised a hand to his chin.

"He thinks he's going to be the next Judge Advocate General." Mac answered.

"Ohh, two stars, getting too big for the rest of us, Hammer?" Keeter's sarcasm and mock reverence were evident.

"Are you two done ganging up on me or would you like to continue for a little while longer to make fun of the wounded former captive?" Harm made an attempt at a swing at Keeter.

"I don't have time, buddy. I have to put up a flight schedule so that some of my more juvenile stick jockeys can get some flight hours in. Back tomorrow, Hammer." Keeter tapped Harm on the foot before heading out of the room.

"It's good to see Keeter again." Mac mused as she began to lightly rub Harm's leg.

"You've been doing a lot of that lately." Harm pointed to indicate Mac's reassuring gesture.

"I almost lost you again." Mac stated solemnly. "Every time, it seems like you get that much closer to death and I feel that much more of you slipping away."

"I'm not slipping away from you, Mac. That's the last thing I want to do." Harm took her hand. "Come on, Ninja-girl. I'm still having night terrors and I'm still going to need your help to get through them and piece my memory back together." Harm gave a pat to the space on the rack next to him.

"You know, it would be scandalous for the two of us to be caught in this position." Mac smiled like a Cheshire cat.

"Who cares what the rest of the world thinks. For the first time I'm going to have to admit that I need another human being in order to manage, do you think you can be that other human being?" Harm let her curl up against his chest.

"You didn't even have to ask." Mac answered with a dreamy whisper.

1529 ZULU

CAPITOL BUILDING

WASHINGTON, DC

"This hearing of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee will come to order. The item on the agenda is the confirmation of Nathan Daniel Ross to the office of Secretary of State. This hearing of the committee is now in session." Republican Senate Majority Leader John Ling banged his gavel and the Senators took their seat. "Mr. Ross would you please stand and raise your right hand." Nate got up out of the chair and did as requested. The committee chairman took a minute to place Nate under oath.

"Alright, now Mr. Ross, we can get right down to the nitty gritty questioning or we can exchange pleasantries first. Which would you prefer?" Bobbi Latham jumped right in.

"I knew there was something about you I liked Senator and even with your forthrightness, I still can't remember what that is." Nate joked. "If you guys want to talk to sit in Foreign policy class, you can feel free to ask the questions and I'll play the role of the teacher and answer your questions."

"Fine. Mr. Ross, the United States has been roundly criticized for our policy regarding the status of detainees at the Guantanamo Bay facility; you're going to have to defend the decision of the United States government. What is your personal position on this issue?" Senator Ling pushed.

"Well, Senator, personally I think that Guantanamo Bay is a Prisoner of War camp in the same tradition as POW camps have been for the last four hundred years. It is not and should not be the position of the United States as it has not been the position of any other government in the last four hundred years to release or try prisoners before the end of a conflict. When the conflict is over, the prisoners will be tried for the war crimes that they committed and the crimes against humanity that they perpetrated against the people not only of the United States but of the free world. Senator, I think that a few years in a cramped cell can barely merit consideration as undue treatment for such criminals because let's not kid ourselves people. We caught these terrorists at Guantanamo in a war zone, red-handed. They are criminals. They are prisoners and as long as the conditions in which they are kept are a rung above torture, we are in complete accordance with international law." Nate ended by clearing his throat and taking a drink of water.

"Mr. Ross, for the better part of the last decade, you've been the White House's point man for Middle East politics. What do you see as the biggest instability in the region?" Senator Latham led the next line of questioning.

"Senator, that's like asking me my preferred calibre of bullet. The fact is, that the entire region is one giant instability with few exceptions and even they play on contingency. American relations with Pakistan are good but they suck when we have to talk to them about India. American relations with Turkey are good but they suck when we have to talk with them about human rights. American relations with Israel are exceptional but we play chicken on the Palestinian conflict. What do you want me to tell you, Senator? That there's one major problem and once we fix it, the pieces of the puzzle fall into place? That's not how diplomacy works, not with the Middle East. It's a well developed balancing act. Everyone has their issues, concerns and politics and often times they're too stubborn to see the greater good unless pummelled about the head by either the President or whomever is sitting in my chair. The Middle East is the reason that the Secretary of State has a job any more, Senator and terrorism is the reason that the job means anything." Nate took a deep breath and gulped down another drink of water.

"Terrorism is the only reason that this job means anything? Mr. Ross, the Secretary of State is fourth in line of succession to the Presidency." Bobbi grinded on.

"He absolutely is. But Senator Latham, realistically, terrorism is the greatest threat to everyone in the free world. States support it willingly or unwillingly. The biggest members of Al Qaeda retreat from the cities because modern telecommunications would make it remarkably easy for us to track them. Al Qaeda runs bankrolls in close to six and a half dozen countries including to my knowledge, countries on every continent with the exception of Antarctica although I hear they're petitioning the penguins for a savings account next week." Nate smirked quickly. "Terrorism is global, it's prevalent and we're still thinking like this is the Cold War and we're fighting communism. The same methods _do not work_. If we keep fighting this war like they do, _we will lose_. The President nominated me for this job because he thinks I know what it takes and he's hoping that you see that. From what I hear on ZNN, the American people agree with him."

"I believe that we can break for lunch." Senator Ling collected his papers and banged his gavel to signify the end of the hearing.

0211 LOCAL

USS JOHN . F. KENNEDY

SOMEWHERE IN THE PACIFIC

Night crept on into what a lot of people could describe as having been morning. Harm began to toss in his bed again another stereotypical sign that he was experiencing yet another night terror. Mac knew better then to try and rouse him when he was going through this kind of thing. She just let him toss and turn and mumble a few inane things as he struggle with a few parts of recovered memory.

Mac saw the sweat begin to glisten on his forehead and the back of his neck. Once again, he sat straight up in his bed and began to hyperventilate. "What was it this time?"

"More of the same torture, beating, dehumanization. God, Mac, I'm not sure I can do this for the rest of my life. Going to sleep only to have the worst experience of my life revisit me every time I close my eyes. It's too much, there's only one good trade off on this one." Harm admitted tiredly.

"What's the good trade off?" Mac asked as she moved closer to Harm on the rack.

"You're here. Times are tough and you're still here." Harm stopped talking and gulped heavily. "You remember earlier when we were talking about lives in a state of flux?"

"Yeah." Mac put a concerned hand on Harm's knee.

"I was thinking about a promise that we'd made a few years ago, the last time that you used those words. I couldn't help but wonder what we were actually thinking when we made that promise." Harm inched closer to her. Mac's heart stopped, was he going back on it? Where was he going with this anyway? "I've been thinking that certain parts of that deal definitely need to be amended."

"Okay, I'll bite what parts of the deal need to be amended?" Mac asked with a glare.

"Mac, neither of us would raise a child without a functioning family, not after what we both went through as kids. So, my amendment to the agreement is this. If we're going to have a kid, we should probably go for the whole suburban thing. If we're going to have a kid, I…I think we should maybe, you know, live together, for the kid's sake." Harm cautioned and watched as Mac's face took on an instant surprise. There had been a lot of things that she might have expected him to say but this was definitely not one of them.

"You don't think we'd kill each other?" Mac asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I think that we've endured more then most married couples could ever conceive of. I believe that if we think we can raise a child together then we have to believe that we can do this." Harm answered.

"You always were the best with closing arguments." Mac grinned and took his hand in hers. "So our deal is, if neither of us is involved with someone else in one year and eight months, we'll move in together and go halves on a kid."

"Sounds like a good deal." Harm nodded. "Right now, we need to go back to sleep."

"Oh yeah, just like every other guy. Promising long term just to get me into bed." Mac fell back on the bed.

"Hey, we were in bed long before there was any long term talk." Harm pointed out.

"Yeah, Harmon Rabb, never does anything like anyone else." Mac yawned dreamily Harm watches as her eyes closed and she drifted off into sleep.

"You'll have to wait one year and eight months to find out if that's true about _everything_." Harm quipped as he fell back on the pillow.

0326 ZULU

OVAL OFFICE

WASHINGTON, DC

Nate Ross tapped at the door to the President's office. After a few seconds, the Presidential Secretary told him to head on in and he did. He saw President Andrew Russell hunched over the desk with his lamp as the only light in the room and the sleeves on his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows.

"So, this is what it's like in the executive?" Nate had his hands in the pockets on his suit jacket.

"I heard you got sprung. Unanimous confirmation on committee; 97-1 vote in favour in the Senate with two abstentions. You're the best Secretary of State since Kissinger and the most popular one since Jefferson. Yet, I get the feeling that there a place you would rather be." The President got up from behind his desk and walked over. "Nathan, take a seat." The President motioned toward the couch. "Get you a drink?"

"Don't suppose you've got any Cabernet Sauvignon?" Nate chanced a smile.

"Mostly the standards, sorry. I do think there's a bottle of Merlot buried in the cabinet from the Ford Administration." The President walked over to his liquor cabinet and pulled out the bottle of wine and then two glasses. "Why do you drink wine anyway?"

"Life's too short for alcohol that tastes like shit." Nate sniffed from the glass.

"Nathan, you're incredibly good at what you do. I don't understand it but I'm glad that you're a part of this administration. You throw around more of the superpower weight then some Republicans and yet you still maintain that Democratic social justice streak. Life is more then platforms and negotiations and your job. The real essence of life is in the intangible moments that you can't get back; the ones that make us human, those kinds of moments can't be found behind a desk. You need other people, people you love in order to make those moments happen. I've given you this chance, Nathan. You're job will be taxing, there's no doubt but now, you can start creating your own moments." The President began to drink from his wine glass.

"Any suggestions on where to start?" Nate pursed his lips after finishing a glass of wine.

"Yeah, get out of that ratty little apartment in Pentagon City. You're the Secretary of State, get a nice condo somewhere in DC." The President counselled as he set his glass down on the coffee table.

"I always liked Foggy Bottom." Nate mused.

"It's a good neighbourhood." The President smirked as he and Nate clinked their glasses together in a silent toast. "I got the paperwork on those Navy Crosses for Galindez and MacKenzie processed today. It's amazing what a personal recommendation from the President will do for expediency."

1032 LOCAL

USS JOHN .F. KENNEDY

SOMEWHERE IN THE PACIFIC

Mac and Harm had been roused out of sleep by Keeter some time around seven that morning. They're time on the Kennedy was drawing to a close. Harm's condition was rapidly improving, now he could get around very easily with only the occasional dizzy spell. Keeter was making every effort to catch up with Harm as much as they could, having not seen each other in three years. "There's a bitch to it all, Hammer. Being this close to forty and having so little to show for it, there's a bitch to it."

"Yeah, there's a bitch to it, Keeter." Harm sat up on the edge of the bed.

"Y'ever wonder what it might have been like had Diane lived…you know?" Keeter asked timidly, knowing the sensitive nature of the subject.

"I stopped wondering because I never got anywhere. I'd like to say that Mac stopped me from wondering but when I first knew Mac, Diane was pretty much all I could think about. All I could want was to steal a few more moments with Di. But Mac and even Annie and Jordan got me passed that. I don't wonder anymore." Harm rolled his neck. "I think if she knew I was still wondering, she'd kick my ass."

"No doubt there, Di never was one for just sitting around. Speaking of just sitting around, when are you going to do something about Mac?" Keeter braved this topic with a new bravado.

"What am I going to do? I've had chances; I've blown pretty much every one of them. Right now, I'm just happy that we're still talking to each other. I hope we can keep this up for another year and eight months." Harm chuckled remembering his discussion with Mac from the night before.

"Why a year and eight months?" Keeter asked slightly puzzled.

"You'll know when it happens." Harm answered cryptically, not wanting to reveal too much of his conversation with Mac from the previous night.

"Does anyone actually understand what happens between you and Mac? I mean, I thought that you two were going to have a Casablanca moment during that goodbye in the desert but nothing happened and after three years, still nothing's happened. Buddy, make something happen." Keeter shook his head rather hard.

"Oh, to be back at the Academy when things were actually that simple. Or we at least thought they were. Keeter, if we've learned anything in twenty years in this man's Navy it's that the life we imagined for ourselves coming out of Annapolis and the life as it is, are two very different things." Harm yawned.

"You're going to be living with her until your doctor is ready to sign off on you living alone again. I suggest you take this time to really consider your situation and realize that if you wanted to. You'd never have to use the word lonely again to describe yourself. That woman will always be there for you, Hammer, and with some of the stunts you pulled, that's someone special who can stick with you through all that." Keeter got up off the chair.

"Got another flight schedule to write?" Harm asked as Keeter walked toward the hatch.

"Another day, another run on the flight deck. Get some rest, your doc tells me that you'll be out of here in a few days if you keep on track." Keeter swung through the hatch. Harm was left sitting alone on the edge of the bed. Was he really as close to Mac as the picture that Keeter had painted? Or was Keeter just another well-meaning friend who saw what he wanted to see. Then Harm thought about the fact that the two weeks of his life would be spend in Sarah MacKenzie's apartment living side by side with her. Temptation comes in many forms indeed.

Eventually Gunny dropped by to say hi and check in on things and eventually Mac came back and the two of them spent the remainder of the day talking and laughing much as they had done since they had come aboard the Kennedy. The status quo had once again crept back in, so that order would prevail in Harmon Rabb's life. He took another deep breath and asked a question that he had asked so much before: how long would it last this time?


	23. Who Finds Peace In His Home

1834 ZULU

MAC'S APARTMENT

GEORGETOWN, DC

"Mac, it wasn't necessary to chauffeur me around to get my stuff from my house. I am perfectly capable of doing some things on my own still." Harm protested as they walked down the hall to her apartment.

"Harm, the doctor said full medical custody. Besides, Sergei needed to know that you were okay. Last he probably heard, you were still just off on some diplomatic mission in Indonesia." Mac replied as she supported Harm as he walked down the hallway.

"Mac, you don't have to baby me." Harm might have been protesting but you didn't have to look hard to see that he was enjoying Mac's attention.

"Harm, Commander Chase held you back on the Kennedy for three days because he felt that you were still having problems with your equilibrium." Mac put her keys in her door and turned the key to open the lock. Mac pushed the door open and turned on the lights. As Harm stepped in, people seemed to spring out from behind every corner in the apartment.

"Surprise!" Everyone shouted at once as they appeared in the main room. Harm started laughing as he recognized all the familiar faces. Sturgis and Bobbi were there, the Admiral was with Bev Ross soon to be Chegwidden, Gunny, Harriet was there and even Keeter popped up from behind a couch.

"I have a major head injury and you decide to have a bunch of people ambush me as a sign of goodwill?" Harm asked sarcastically.

"Well, you just got out of medical care after a major head injury and Mac thought you could use a nice housewarming for your new temporary digs." Sturgis walked over and handed Harm a bottle of water.

"Gave us a hell of a scare, son." The Admiral came over and clapped Harm on the back.

"Heard that you helped to save my skin, Admiral. That Mossad contact of yours was apparently exactly the help that Mac and her crew needed to come to the rescue." Harm stood shoulder to shoulder with the Admiral.

"I couldn't let you die out there, son. I've grown kind of fond of you over the years." The Admiral chuckled as the crowd seemed to gather around Harm.

"Don't think you can hide behind Mac forever, Hammer. Harriet tells me that she's going to need us to lay patio stones next weekend and Sturgis and I are expecting you do carry some of the burden for a job like that." Keeter joked as he and Sturgis clinked their beer bottles together.

"Hey, how come I don't get a beer?" Harm whined.

"Because the doctor said that having just had major neurological surgery you should not consume alcohol." Mac instructed in her best drill instructor voice. "Now can you just enjoy the party?"

"Yes, mother." Harm deadpanned as he went over with Sturgis, Keeter, the Admiral and Gunny toward the television where an Orioles game was playing for their amusement.

"Ma'am are you sure about this? Sure about you know, having the Captain live her for a while? I mean, it's not my place to question or intrude but it just seems that with the history between you and the Captain." Harriet started to ramble.

"She knows exactly what she's doing." Bobbi remarked coyly as she took a drink from the glass.

"What are you insinuating, Senator?" Mac perked an eyebrow in suspicion.

"If I told you, you'd just deny it anyway." Bobbi remarked with a smile. "Something happened out in the jungle didn't it?"

"Nothing happened, nothing out of the ordinary for us anyway." Mac answered with a slightly depressed tone.

"Mac, ordinary isn't a word that fits into any description of your relationship with Harmon Rabb. Something happened between you and Harm either in the jungle or on the Kennedy and you've got it locked up tight." Bobbi was sure that she was on a role now.

"Why are you prying?" Mac asked trying to quell suspicion.

"I'm a politician, it's what we do." Bobbi answered.

SAME TIME

NATE'S CONDO

FOGGY BOTTOM, DC

"Damn, Nate, this place is huge." CIA Special Agent Mike Bradley had a box under his arm as he was among the group of people helping Nate move in. "You sure you need all this space?"

"Protocol; my security team needs a place to sleep and my old place was too small. Besides, it's about time I got out of that small apartment in Virginia." Nate's face was hidden by two large boxes that he was carrying.

"You know, just because I'm your brother doesn't mean that you can load me down like a pack mule every time you move." Detective Sergeant Steve Ross came in with a large box under each arm.

"You need to make yourself useful. DC cops have a habit of getting soft." Nate joked as the boxed were all set down in the middle of the floor.

"The same cannot be said for members of the Russian Intelligence community." Mike pointed to Nikolai Petrov who had a fridge loaded up on a dolly and was pulling it into the apartment.

"I cannot believe that you made me fly thousands of miles to help you move." Nikolai grunted as he lowered the fridge to the floor.

"Gavin's coming up with the last of everything." Mike went into the kitchen and got everyone a beer. "The movers did a good job bringing the rest of your stuff by and setting it up."

"That they did." Nate admitted as he leaned on the fridge. Mike handed everyone a beer from the case that they had brought up before anything else in the car. "Three cheers for warm beer."

"I can't believe that you also felt it necessary to upgrade your entire home theatre system. Nina would never let me do anything like that." Gavin grunted as he entered the room with the last box.

"We're all married, none of us are going to see a new entertainment set up like that unless it's a birthday present." Steve lamented.

"And even then, I think Becky'd prefer to get me a new set of golf clubs." Mike landed back on the couch.

"Aren't the Redskins playing the Ravens?" Gavin threw himself down next to Mike.

"Nathan, can I talk to you for a second?" Nikolai tapped Nate on the shoulder and the two men walked across the living room and through the sliding glass doors out on to the stone balcony that overlooked the city. "It's been a long time my old friend."

"It certainly has. I'm sorry for not visiting more, it's just hard to get out to Moscow all that often." Nate leaned on the white railing that matched the limestone of the balcony.

"I heard about the list, the eighteen names that the Mossad and the CIA got from Bashram. I suggest that your men be careful with Ziyda. Abu Ziyda is an Al Qaeda contact who controls most of the information flow with terrorist cells in North America and Western Europe. Most of the time, he can blend in with crowds or so utilize members of the local Muslim population so as to make himself untouchable." Nikolai turned to face Nate.

"You're a bad liar, Nikolai. What aren't you telling me?" Nate leaned on his elbows on the railing.

"Ziyda has been buying guns and explosives from the Russian mafia. Three purchases in the last seven months totalling more then thirteen million dollars. All business was conducted in former Soviet states like Belarus, Ukraine and Bulgaria. I tell you, Nathan, I don't know what you hope to accomplish in having these names." Nikolai lamented as he turned back toward the door.

"The world is wondering what we're going to do with those names, Nikolai. The whole world wants to know if the United States can carry out measured vengeance against Osama Bin Laden and show him the price for taking American lives." Nate ran a hand through his hair as he moved back toward the door.

"All these years, America looked down its nose at states that advocated the use of torture and now, you find yourselves telling the world that there are situations in which it is permissible. To say this, you have changed some from our days at Princeton." Nikolai shook his head as if disappointed.

"The world has changed, Nikolai. You don't fight terrorism like you fight a state. The object is still victory but the means by which you achieve victory have changed. You achieve victory against a state by triumph of superior might but you achieve individual terrorists by triumph of superior psychology. You fuck with their heads; fear, insecurity, weakness, vulnerability, they have to know that there's no place on earth that they can go that I can't hit them." Nate's voice had gained intensity.

"You always had a flare for the dramatic." Nikolai gave his old friend a pat on the back.

"Let's get back before the girls get back here, which should be any second now."

1927 ZULU

MAC'S APARTMENT

GEORGETOWN, DC

"So you're going to be living with Mac…" Sturgis and Keeter were talking with Harm over in the corner.

"I knew you two would find someway to get all immature about this." Harm answered, shaking his head.

"Who's getting immature?" Keeter asked light-heartedly.

"You are a little bit." Sturgis commented.

"Maybe a little." Keeter admitted, playing into the gag.

"Abbot, Costello, if you wouldn't mind." Harm stopped their little act.

"Right, Hammer, my point is that eventually, something will happen. You'll see her in a towel or in her bra and panties or something like that……maybe if you're really lucky, you'll see her naked, but something like that will happen. You'll go all Rabb on her and either say or do something that will be confusing or offensive or…" Sturgis cut Keeter off.

"Or you'll do the traditional, male, hormonal thing and start showing signs that you're attracted to her which is likely to end in that serious relationship territory." Sturgis concluded with an air of smug superiority.

"Is there a point to this High school inquisition?" Harm was growing more then a little annoyed with the whole thing.

"Just making sure that you know the possible logical ends of you living with Mac for any period of time, buddy." Sturgis gave his friend a supportive punch to the shoulder.

"The logical ends here being?" Harm questioned looking from Sturgis to Keeter.

"Either a diamond ring or Sturgis and I getting the shoe-horn so we can pull your foot out of your mouth." Keeter answered with his traditional southern charm.

"I think you two have far too much time on your hands if you have to sit around thinking up this kind of stuff. Sturgis, does Bobbi know that you devote so much time thinking about_ my _love life?" Harm questioned.

"Or lack thereof." Keeter added with a laugh.

"And you, don't you have better things to do? Like make sure that green young pilots don't destroy forty million dollar aircraft." Harm turned his attention on Keeter.

"Don't worry, I've already given them the lectures about taking off in the face of incoming storm-fronts in order to make your best friend's wedding and that other lesson about abducting a Russian MiG and ejecting over the taiga. Any more pointers I can give the kids from the Master?" Keeter challenged with a raised eyebrow. He always got a little defensive when someone challenged how he ran his Air Wing.

"Alright, alright I give. I forgot the first rule about picking arguments with a close friend." Harm admitted with a chuckle. "Don't be surprised if some of your own erratic behaviour comes back to bite you in the ass."

"Exactly." Keeter pointed his index finger at Harm while still clutching his beer bottle.

"Something that you would be wise to remember, Jack. Especially considering that the two of us have some stories about your behaviour that I can pretty safely bet Mama Keeter never heard." Sturgis was back on his Preacher's Kid pulpit.

"You wouldn't." Keeter was petrified and ghastly pale all of a sudden.

"We so would." Harm challenged with nothing betraying his joking demeanour.

"You would, too. Fine, no more comments about you and Mac and in return you take all the stories about my Academy antics to the grave." Keeter was wide-eyed.

"Jesus, we can still get your goat, Jack. Thank God Bax isn't here, he would've had you jumping like a trained seal before he let up on you." Harm chortled again.

"Now, what are you three boys talking about?" Mac sauntered over to the corner that the three men had retreated to. Harm and Sturgis were caught by surprise from Mac's stealthy intrusion.

"We were talking about breasts. Harm was just about to present his argument in favour of larger ones. I yield the floor to Captain Rabb." Keeter stepped aside and everyone was looking at Harm to say something.

"Harm?" Mac had her arms crossed in front of her. Harm gulped and began to stutter through an explanation of Keeter's idiocy in making that comment but he still came out looking like a kid who had been caught with one hand in the cookie jar. All of a sudden; Sturgis, Mac and Keeter just burst out laughing. "You were right, Jack, it really is easy to get his goat with this kind of thing."

"You three planned this?" Harm asked incredulously.

"Well, not this exactly but a skit along the lines of something like this." Sturgis answered. "I needed something to alleviate the pressure in my life. My senator girlfriend is in the middle of an election year."

"If that was causing you stress, why didn't you just tell me. I could have gotten the Secretary of State to endorse her campaign." Harm led the group back to join the rest of the party.

SAME TIME

NATE'S CONDO

FOGGY BOTTOM, DC

"Valeri, Becky, Nina and Lily, nice to see you girls again." Nate welcomed the wives of his friends into his new place. The whole afternoon was turning into a veritable exhibition of suburbia. There were four married couples and nine kids between them all of whom knew him as 'Uncle Nate'. Nate took out some time to give some gifts to the kids who knocked him to the ground when they all rushed to hug him at the same time.

"Hey Nate, I'm going to head down to the van and get some of the kids' stuff. I'll be back in a few minutes, alright?" Steve Ross headed toward the elevator.

"Yeah, see ya in a few." Nate was slightly dismissive with allowing his brother to leave. Stephen Ross was walking down the hallway toward the elevator when he saw Nicole DiPiccio get off and come toward him. "What do you think you're doing?" Steve asked, eyes wide at the prospect of having her in the same room as his brother after having been brought up to speed on the current stated of their relationship.

"I heard from Mike that Nate was having a housewarming today, I figured that I would swing by with a bottle of wine." Peach explained.

"What makes you think he wants to see you after everything that happened in Manila? Don't you understand? You were the one person who had never hurt him, the one person that he was sure would never hurt him but you did a damn good job of it. I've never seen that man so destroyed in my life. So, I don't know what makes you think that as his brother I can let you get any where near him again." Steve growled.

"Your brother and I have been doing the same dance for years, I needed to dip _him_ for a change." Peach answered weakly.

"Exactly, you've been doing the same dance for **nine years**. He wants to end it, he wants you and you shut him down. Why?" Steve's interrogation techniques were coming out.

"I didn't think it was genuine interest. I was sure that whatever he was going through would pass and I thought that rather then feel the hurt again, it would be easier for me to just walk away this time." She slightly hung her head. "You can't stop us from talking forever."

"I have no intention of such a thing. I'm just trying to prevent either of you from doing further damage. Go home and talk and give things time to settle because if you don't, God knows how long this dance will be doomed to continue." Peach had known from years of dealing with members of the Ross family that they were notoriously stubborn. Rather then fight with Stephen, she simply composed herself and turned back toward the elevator.

Steve chose to ignore the kid's toy that he was going to get from the car and instead he decided to head back to Nate's place. He saw a brother that needed a good heart to heart. Someone, who needed an ear of a brother who was finally in a place in his life to listen and give advice. Steve walked back into the condo and tapped his brother on the shoulder before heading into the kitchen.

"I think we need to have a talk." Steve started.

"I think you've been spending too much time with mom." Nate replied.

"Seriously, we need to talk about what the hell happened in Manila, Nate. I mean, it kills me to see you trying to go through this alone. You were always there for me, you were always my big brother, now for God's sake let me be your brother." Steve urged.

"It's not your problem. Now, Lily was saying something about you getting a job at NCIS, you really want to have anything to do with the Marine Corps or the Navy knowing our family's history?" Nate pressed determined not to talk about Manila.

"Nice diversionary tactic. Yes, I'm sure that I'm doing the right thing by going into NCIS but that's not what I want to talk about. In the two and a half weeks that you've been back, you've drank more and worked more then you have since Preston died. For Christ's sake, Nate can't you see what you're doing to yourself?" Steve was impassioned by his brother's growing introversion.

"She said it, not me. So yeah, I'm a little depressed and a little pissed off and this is how I deal with it." Nate answered.

"You drink and you work; for Christ's sake, Nate, you're turning into Dad." Steve had earned a very serious glare from his older brother for that comment. "What? Dad was a workaholic and a fair man of the bottle. Just because it's wine and not scotch doesn't make you any better than him."

"I am not my father!" Nate shouted in response. "I am not dad." He calmed slightly. "I may be a miserable son of a bitch but I saved the woman I love from my misery and that makes me a damn sight better then any man who would put her through it."

"Does it? With her by your side, you're not a miserable fuck. You're not saving her, she was always the one who saved you. Now that you don't have her, you're sinking down into that pit of despair. I'm not telling you to grovel but goddamn it, Marine, you could at least fight!"

2306 ZULU

MAC'S APARTMENT

GEORGETOWN, DC

"Hey, Harm, I'd ask you how the war's treating you but the stitches in your head say more then enough." Admiral Chegwidden and Harm had taken a break outside to smoke a cigar.

"Yeah, yeah I suppose they do. Congratulations on the engagement, sir. Reverend Ross is one hell of a woman as far as I can judge character." Harm began to lightly puff on the cigar.

"I thought you gave up cigars." The Admiral questioned.

"Been smoking with the President recently, I'm hooked again." Harm smiled.

"So, been a hell of year, hasn't it?" The Admiral played rhetorical.

"Sure has, sir; it sure has. Back in February, we were sitting in my apartment talking about the relative flux of both of our personal lives. Now, here we are, six months later, you're engaged and I'm still no closer to personal stability." Harm could help but be self-deprecating. "How did you do it, sir?"

"I knew what I wanted, Harm. I knew what I wanted and I wasn't afraid to go for it. That's what it's about, knowing what you want and reaching deep inside for the fortitude to just go for it. What do you lose by going for it? Nothing. What do you gain by not making an attempt? Same answer. From that standpoint, there's really only one option isn't there?" The Admiral turned to face the young man who had become a protégé and son to him.

"It all sounds a hell of a lot easier then it is." Harm replied as he took another drag off the cigar. "Maybe the guys are right, maybe I'm just asking for trouble with this whole living arrangement thing. I should have just asked to be released into Sergei's custody or Sturgis'; as it is, I'm not sure that my friendship with Mac is strong enough any more to survive something like this."

"I told you once that I had watched you and Mac dance around each other for years. Why do you want to keep dancing?" The Admiral asked as if Harm were trying his patience.

"Something always gets in the way. When we were working together at JAG, it was regulations, now that we're not working together I think all the years of hurt feelings and stubborn pride are working against us. I know that somehow there's a logical end to this, I just don't know what it is." Harm let the cigar hang from his teeth as he lightly traced the stitches on his scalp.

"I think it's whatever you want it to be." The Admiral answered with what could best be described as a laugh of revelation.

"You're starting to sound like Mac." Harm joked.

"You ever thought that she might be right?" The Admiral asked.

"Yes, even if it means that I've been wrong all these years, I have to admit that I have thought from time to time that Mac might just be right." Harm admitted with another heavy puff on his cigar.

"Her being right doesn't make you wrong, if that's what you're afraid of." The Admiral went back to a fatherly tone.

"I'm not sure that there's anything to be afraid of any more. The one thing that I've been afraid of my whole life is ending up a prisoner of war, dead I could handle but it was the idea of leaving people behind who didn't know if I was alive or dead, that scared me. Yet, I was less scared this time because I knew that Mac wouldn't just give up on me." Harm could think of what comparisons his mind was drawing up.

"You mean like you think your mom gave up on your dad?" The Admiral hazarded, knowing the shaky ground he was treading on.

"I guess, I just can't do this to her. I know that Mac's like me and that if anything happens to me, she'll obsess about it. I did that for thirty-four years. I won't let that happen to someone I love." Harm turned back toward the main door of Mac's apartment building.

"Harm, y'ever think that it might not be about what you want this time." The Admiral suggested as the two men went back into the building.

1356 ZULU

JAG HEADQUARTERS

FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

"Commander in Chief on deck!" The Sergeant at Arms called as the President, Nate Ross and their respective security details came walking into the bullpen. Everyone snapped to attention in the bullpen as the senior staff came out to greet their high level guests.

"Mr. President, to what do I owe the honour of this visit, sir?" The Admiral asked as he greeted the President in the bullpen.

"Strictly official, Admiral. It turns out that two personnel under your command have distinguished themselves in the services of their country and this matter was brought to my attention by one of my senior cabinet officials. As a result I put my personal stamp on his recommendation that they be awarded for their actions." The President seemed calculating in his remarks to Admiral Chegwidden.

"By all means, sir, which members of my staff are worthy of such distinction." The Admiral stepped aside to allow the President to review his staff. President Russell looked at Nate who made the announcement.

"Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie and Gunnery Sergeant Galindez, front and center!" Nate called, this was followed by Mac and Gunny stepping out from the crowd and standing to face the President and the Secretary of State. Nate produced a rectangular black velvet box and opened it. "Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez, in recognition of you conspicuous gallantry and meritorious service in an action that went above and beyond the call of duty, you are to be awarded the Navy Cross." Nate pulled out the award and pinned it to Gunny's chest. Gunny saluted Nate who returned the salute.

"Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie, in recognition of your heroic acts in the rescue of an American serviceman and another fellow American, it is the decision of the United States Department of the Navy upon the recommendation of myself that you be awarded the Navy Cross for you actions of July 24th." The President opened his own black box and pinned the Navy Cross to Mac's uniform. Mac snapped to attention and saluted the President who returned the salute. "One last act before we conclude our business here today.

As many of you know, seven generations of the Ross family have given their lives to the service of the Marine Corps. I did a little background research on my Secretary of State and I found that the first three generations were enlisted men but since those men, no Ross has retired from the Marine Corps below the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. I see no reason to break with tradition."

It was suddenly dawning on Nate why the President had requested that he wear his Class A Marine Corps uniform. Nate stood fixed at attention in front of the President with his shoulders squared. "It is a great honour and privilege for me as the President to promote Major Nathan Ross, United States Marine Corps Reserve to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel with all the responsibilities and privileges that are attached to that rank." Nate fixed a salute as the President unscrewed the gold oak leaf clusters on his shoulders and attached a new set of silver oak leaves. "Congratulations, Colonel Ross."

"Thank you, Mr. President." Nate smiled as he shook his boss' hand. "Congratulations, Colonel." Nate turned toward Mac.

"You know, it's not everyday that a girl gets awarded a Navy Cross, thank you." Mac answered with a friendly smile.

"You're a genuine American hero, Mac. You're the ideal role model for that new feminist generation." Nate stated as he moved to turn toward Gunny.

"Oh God, you already sound like a politician." Mac joked as she headed back to our office.

"Looks good on you, Gunny." Nate shook Gunny's hand.

"Thanks for the recommendation, Colonel." Gunny snapped off a salute for Nate who returned the salute in kind. The President and Nate hung around for a few more minutes before business at JAG returned to normal.


	24. To Be Fond of Dancing

_A/N: Something's been bugging us; since this story is kind of a crossover between JAG and a TV Series of our own creation which we've dubbed 'D.C.', we've been trying to think of a theme song, so if you know any songs that would make a good D.C. theme; please tell us._

_A/N2: By the way, while we love the reviews, if you guys want to write a lot when you review, please feel free. If you have any questions or concerns we want to hear them, in fact we enjoy reading and responding to them. So please, make your reviews long if you feel you have something on your mind._

_Guest Starring: Elisha Cuthbert as Midshipman Anna Ross _

"Harm, would you take it easy, we don't have to take Sergei to Annapolis until Sunday." Mac protested as Harm exerted himself to load down the Lexus with Sergei's stuff.

"Mac, it's a fair distance to Annapolis and I don't want us doing all the packing on the morning of, so as a result, I'd like to get some of this done now." Harm pushed the last bit of Sergei's stuff into the back of the Lexus.

"Harm, you're not doing the driving anyway, so why does it matter to you when we pack? You'll probably just sleep in the car. Besides, Nate's sister Anna already said that she'd help Sergei get to know his way around the place." Mac was doing her best to calm Harm down.

"That's not helping to put my mind at ease. They may be the same age, but Anna is a third year and the only thing that Sergei is interested in when it comes to her has nothing to do with studying." Harm sat in the back hatch of the Lexus with Mac.

"So, why does that have you worried?" Mac asked as she lazily put her head on Harm's shoulder.

"From what I've seen, she shows no real romantic interest in him." Harm explained, still whining a little.

"Oh, I find it tough to believe that she's going to be hold out against the infamous Rabb charm to which so many women have fell victim." Mac teased.

"How have you held out?" Harm joked back.

"I'm a Marine." Mac answered.

"So's Anna." Harm pointed out. "Well, a Marine in training anyway."

"Ah, the Rabb foil; women in olive green. So what really has you bugged about this situation, Harm? Come on, you may be one of the few deep guys on the planet, something's got to be bugging you about this that you're not telling me about." Mac goaded, elbowing him in the ribs.

"It's just that when he first got to the States, Sergei was on a real dating streak but ever since Anna started teaching him English, she seems to be all he can think or talk about. She's got him reading books that I never read and they really talk when they talk but with her on her cruise this summer, Sergei's kind of moped around the apartment like a wounded puppy." Harm explained as he leaned back on the boxes in the car,

"So you're worried that he could get hurt? Mac asked.

"I'm worried about the whole situation. I mean, yeah, he's my brother and the only one I've got so the thought of this girl shattering him has crossed my mind but there are a lot of relationship possibilities that existed between dating and heartbreak and some of them aren't the most pleasant." Harm sighed. "I've had experience with that too, not something I'd like to go over again."

It clicked in Mac's head. Harm was talking about his own time at the Academy. "You're worried that Sergei is going to go through the same motions with Anna that you went through with Diane?"

"I guess." Harm admitted. "Just the thought of the Academy dredges up so much for me. There's a lot of good but there's a lot of baggage too you know? I guess it's like you and Red Rock."

"I understand what you mean. You're having a hard time reconciling what Annapolis is and what it means to you, with the personal results of having gone there. I understand what you're going through, Harm. We all have something like that, our own burdens we need to bear. This is just yours. It's made you the person you are. It made you probably the most honourable man I know. Even if you can be confusing and frustrating some times." Mac lightly rubbed his back as he yawned openly. "Alright, let's get you home before you fall asleep here."

Mac took the key from Harm and head ed over to the driver's side of the vehicle. "Mac, I'm fine to drive." Harm protested as he walked over to the passenger's side.

"Against Commander Chase's orders and I don't want the nice doctor man telling me that you had a setback because I let you do something foolish when I could have stopped you." She lectured with a typical Mac charm.

"Since when do you listen to anything that a Squid tells you?" Harm asked.

"Since I get to use it to torture you." Mac replied.

"Speaking of which, where was that cut little nurse outfit that you promised to wear?" Harm raised an eyebrow in silent challenge.

"Why would it be torture for you to watch me wear something like that?" Challenge accepted.

"No comment." Harm replied, silently admitting defeat.

1623 ZULU

HARRY S TRUMAN BUILDING

FOGGY BOTTOM, DC

"When are the delegations due in next week for the conference on international security?" Nate asked his Chief of Staff as they walked through the halls toward Nate's office.

"Israeli delegation touches down at Andrews at 0800, the French follow soon after at 0845, the Germans at 0930, the Canadians at 1130 and the British at noon, sir." The Chief of Staff replied as he navigated the halls at Nate's side.

"Good, now I believe that each delegation is composed of a foreign minister and the director or a representative of that country's foreign intelligence service, correct?" Nate asked as they stood in the reception area to his office.

"Yes, sir. The British and Canadian Foreign Ministers are both bringing the head of their intelligence agencies while the French, Germans and Israelis are merely bringing representatives of their intelligence communities. Sir, the President needs to know who else is going to be representing the United States at this conference on Monday." The Chief of Staff stopped as he watched Nate shuffle through the pieces of paper that were his phone messages.

"Tell him that I want Harmon Rabb and Mike Bradley on my team at Camp David. I'll be in my office for another hour but I have my lunch with the chairman of the DNC at 1230, right?" Nate double-checked.

"Yes, sir." The Chief of Staff nodded before taking leave of his boss.

"Mr. Secretary, one of your Undersecretaries is waiting in you office, sir." Nate's Secretary informed him. Nate nodded and walked through the doors of his office to find Peach standing in front of his desk.

"There had better be a very good reason for your being here." Nate sounded cold and official as he walked over to his chair.

"I remember a time when there wouldn't have had to be a reason, what happened to that?" Peach asked, vocalizing the first thoughts that came to her mind.

"I don't know, but lucky for me, I don't have to. Why are you here?" Nate threw himself down in the chair.

"My sister's getting married this weekend; to a doctor and my other sister is going to show up with her new boyfriend who's a venture capitalist of some sort. Anyway, out of my want to not be pummelled with 100 questions from my mother and grandmother, I'm calling in a favour." Peach moved closer to the desk. "Seven and a half years ago, when you needed a date to your brother's wedding, I agreed to go and you said that you owed me. I'm calling the favour."

"When do I have to leave?" Nate could feel the headache coming on.

"Four, this afternoon, we have to head up to New York; we're all staying at my mom's." Peach informed him with a self-satisfied smile.

"You needed to spring this on me five hours before I have to be packed to go?" Nate hung his head and ran a hand through his hair. "Why do I have a feeling there's more?"

"In order for my idea to work, you've got to act the part of my boyfriend." Peach winced just at the thought of the last words of that sentence.

"Oh Lord," Nate paused his hand motion through his hair and got up from his seat, "if you look up the word irony in the dictionary, there's a picture of this conversation."

"I normally wouldn't ask…" Peach started but Nate held his hand up to silence her.

"Yes, yes you would and normally I would have no problem saying yes But there are issues this time. I mean, I'm going to do it anyway, I just can't promise that I'll like it." Nate sighed. "I'll have Marine Four pick us up and take us to LaGuardia tonight."

"You want to use the Secretary of State's private Helo to take us to a family wedding?" Peach raised her eyebrows in suspicion.

"I want to not wait in endless lines at Dulles only to get off a plane in New York an hour later and wait in endless lines at JFK. So, in order to save that time, yes, I find it necessary to use Marine Four." Nate picked up the phone and began to call. "See you on the helipad at 1520."

"What is that in People Time?" Peach asked in her own cute way.

"3:20 p.m." Nate answered as he then refocused his attention on the phone call.

2342 ZULU

MAC'S APARTMENT

GEORGETOWN, DC

"Why are we going over this again? Is it really necessary to have my grandmother over just so that someone can help us see Sergei off this weekend?" Harm was still getting used to Mac's mantra of "my apartment, my rules" and it was starting more and more to cramp his style.

"Well, I wanted to have your whole family over but you didn't think that your mom would be especially warm to the idea, especially after what you said happened the last time that she visited." Mac lit the candles on the table.

"You know, my grandmother's going to tell you that you didn't actually have to go to all this fuss just for her." Harm walked back into the kitchen.

"Hey, I learned how to make that special buttermilk turkey recipe I found on the internet and all I have left to do on the brownies is some mixing and then pour them on the cookie sheet and throw them in the oven." Mac protested with Harm had come to describe to himself as her 'cute whine'.

"I know and I'm very proud of you." Harm answered as he came walking into the kitchen to find Mac using the electric mixing machine to whip the brownie batter.

"Really? I thought you'd be turned on." Mac joked, keeping her focus on her baking rather than Harm's expression.

"What did you say?" Harm practically choked on the water that he had been drinking.

"Lighten up, Harm; it's a joke." Mac chuckled as she watched him cough on the water in his throat. Harm was starting to recover his breath when Mac decided to pull another stunt. "Wanna lick my beaters?" Mac turned to face Harm, holding the hand-held mixing machine up for him to see. Harm once again looked stupefied at the implied innuendo that Mac was tossing his way. "No, guess I'll have to do that all to my lonesome." In an instant, Mac's tongue darted out of her mouth and began to slowly lick up the side of the smooth metal cooking utensil, using all her manoeuvrability to clean the inside of the instruments as well.

Harm moaned as he watched the display in front of him, carefully praying that his body would not betray him. God help him if he would actually have to live with this woman without being married to her if she could make baking this sexy. Thankfully, Harm was shaken from his juvenile gawking by a loud knock at the door. "Grandmother is here!" Sergei shouted as he bounded out of the living room where he had been watching more TV.

"I'd better go make the necessary introductions." Harm dragged his heels as he headed out of the kitchen.

"Go on, I still need to put the brownies in the oven in order for them to be ready for when we actually want to _have_ dessert." Mac smiled as she sent Harm on his way.

"You know, thanks to this little interlude, I may have dreams of you in that apron tonight." Harm was now about to take his turn at teasing.

"Playing a Mrs. Brady role, no doubt." Mac retorted as she opened the oven door.

"Actually, I was thinking probably of you wearing _only_ the apron." Harm jibed as he quickly headed for the front door. When Harm got to the front door, Sergei was there waiting for him to open it. Harm reached for the doorknob and turned it, opening the door to his sweet little old grandmother on the other side.

"Harmon Rabb, I thought you were going to leave me standing out in the middle of a drafty hallway for ages. A body could catch cold out there." Mrs. Rabb stepped into the apartment. "You must be Sergei." Sarah Rabb looked over the young Russian man. "Well, you're obviously the handsome one in the family." Harm had to joke, after all these years; his grandmother still had the same sharp sense of humour.

"I nice to meet you, grandmother." Sergei said in almost flawless American English. He then proceeded to wrap her in a big bear hug, the force of which lifted her off the ground.

"Bit of an enthusiastic young thing, isn't he?" Sarah Rabb took her light jacket off as she was lowered to the ground.

"It's a big weekend for him." Harm explained.

"I dare say it is. Now where's our most gracious hostess? You haven't got her standing over a hot oven, have you, Harmon?" Sarah Rabb suddenly seemed very cross with her grandson.

"I swear grandma, she insisted." Harm threw his hands up in surrender as the three Rabbs walked further into the apartment.

2417 ZULU

DIPICCIO HOUSE

BROOKLYN, NEW YORK CITY

Peach walked through the door to her mother's house and she found her sisters, mother, aunts and grandmother all their waiting for her. There was a lot of discernable screeching that was immediately followed by the clear sound of Mama DiPiccio's voice rising above the crowd. "Angelo! Joey! Get your asses down here and say hi to your sister!" As the thundering of two young men could be heard upstairs, Mama DiPiccio took that moment to launch into her inquisition of her daughter. "So, honey, where's this strapping new man of yours?"

"Right here." Nate grunted from under the weight of their combined luggage. He set the bags down The entry hall went silent. "Was it something I said?"

"You're…you're…" Mama DiPiccio had been rendered speechless.

"Well, I do try to be." Nate answered with what the First Lady had called his 'People Magazine' smile.

"Mama, this is…" Peach started but her mother, having regained her power of speech, cut her off.

"I know who it is, Nicole. Why did you neglect to mention that you were dating the Secretary of State, now I have to set out the fine China?" Mama turned to face Peach.

"That's fine, Mrs. DiPiccio, there's no need to go to any trouble on my account." Nate did his best to be convincing.

"You, you can call me 'Mama'." Mama DiPiccios was beaming as she clung to her daughter's arm.

"It was more then a year before Gary could call you 'Mama' without you scowling at him." Peach's sister, who supposedly was to be this weekend's bride, complained.

"When was the last time that eight different magazines called Gary the next President?" Mama DiPiccio replied with a stern maternal tone. There was a long silence that followed her words. "That's what I thought."

"It's really not that big a deal." Nate protested.

"He's right; it's not, the rehearsal in fifty- five minutes is, however and we have to get to the restaurant, now!" Peach's sister practically yelled.

"We can squish ten people into the limo. Eleven, if no one has any objections to sitting on laps." Nate supplied.

"Alright, well that means we can take the wedding party in one car. Mary, dear, I'll take you aunts and uncles and I'll meet you at the restaurant." Mama DiPiccio kissed her daughter on her forehead. All the kids piled out of their house and down the front cement steps to the limo sitting at the curb. "You know, you guys could've come inside." Nate stood in front of a member of his security detail.

"I know that, sir." The Secret Service Agent nodded at Nate.

"Little Old Italian lady might have made you some pasta if you asked real nice like." Nate joked.

"That's fine, sir, maybe we'll stop in later." The Secret Service Agent closed the door behind Nate before climbing the front seat.

"Nate, these are some sweet digs my friend." Peach's brother Angelo was eyeing the limo. "Hey, is that a wet bar?" Angelo reached for the mini wet bar and Nate grabbed his wrist.

"Yes, that is a wet bar, no you cannot have anything. The United States Government pays very well to keep that stocked with the best. The thing is, I don't drink anything that isn't wine. So, I keep it stocked with the original stuff because if I don't and my staff has to replace it, it comes out of my paycheck." Nate tossed Angelo his hand back.

"Tightwad." Angelo huffed.

"Need I remind the immature one that his taxes pay my paycheck and most taxpayers would be glad that I'm not needlessly wasting their money." Nate tossed back, rolling his eyes in the process.

"Touché, Angelo." Gary pointed at his soon-to-be brother-in-law.

"Shut up, _Gary_." Angelo whined.

0109 ZULU

MAC'S APARTMENT

GEORGETOWN, DC

"Well, Sarah dear, I must say for your first real home cooked meal, you have quite a knack." Sarah Rabb placed a loving hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "And Sergei, he certainly seems hung up on this young Anna girl."

"You noticed that, too? And all Sergei had to do was talk about her for forty-five minutes non-stop." Harm quipped and Mac promptly smacked him upside the head for being sarcastic with his grandmother.

"I apologize, Mrs. Rabb, Harm's etiquette hasn't been the same since he hit his head in the Pacific." Mac smiled sarcastically.

"Perfectly alright, Sarah dear. Harmon has always had this way when he's tired and fussy." Sarah Rabb reached up and pinched her grandson's cheek. "You listen to Sarah, she's trying to take care of you and if I find out that you're giving her any trouble, Harmon Rabb, so help me by the good Lord's grace, I'll come down here and break off my Doctor Scholl's in your backside."

"Yes, grandma." Harm nodded as Mac tried to contain her laughter at the older woman's mastery of her grandson.

"And you look after that brother of yours, he's a nice young man; reminds me a lot of you at his age. Let's hope he finds some nice friends like Jack and Sturgis and Ethan that you found at the Academy." Sarah Rabb leaned up and kissed her grandson on the cheek. "Come now, Sarah dear, walk me to my car. That drive to the farm may be a long one but I do so enjoy driving at night."

"Grandma, I told you that you didn't have to drive home tonight." Harm protested as Mrs. Rabb and Mac stood in the doorway.

"Nonsense, that would mean you driving me home in the morning which would mean me getting up very early in the morning to drive with someone who had recently sustained a head injury, dear and that's just not safe." Sarah Rabb closed the door behind the two women as Harm walked back into the apartment.

"So, can I ask why you wanted me to come along with you, Mrs. Rabb?" Mac asked as they walked through the hallway of the building.

"Because you're in love with my grandson, dear. What I want to know is how you intend upon turning that emotion into action. You're certainly the right woman for my grandson, you do make him so happy, dear." Sarah the elder got to the stairs and took Mac's arm.

"You think he's in love with me?" Mac asked as the two women walked down the stairs.

"It's always hard to tell with Rabb men, dear. I spent years with my Andrew and couldn't tell for a moment what he was thinking, always had to ask. As Harmon's father got older, it got harder and harder for me to know what he was thinking to the point where I just started asking questions again. Never hurts, dear. If you're close enough to them, they will open up but you have to be very close, dear." Sarah Rabb gave Mac a conciliatory pat on the shoulder. "Just be patient, dear."

"Would you call seven years, patient?" Mac asked.

"That might be pushing it even for a Rabb." Mrs. Rabb chuckled and climbed into her old beaten Ford truck. "Keep at it, dear. There's no one else for him and I think he now knows that."

0244 ZULU

DIPICCIO HOUSE

BROOKLYN, NEW YORK CITY

"Nicole, dear what are you doing down here at this hour, we've got a big day tomorrow." Mama DiPiccio was sitting at the kitchen table lightly stirring a cup of late night tea.

"Can't really sleep, Ma." Peach answered.

"Go upstairs and have that man of yours rub your shoulders, that should make you sleepy." Mama DiPiccio gave a pat to the other chair at the table.

"Ma, I don't want to talk about how Nate rubs me because then this will turn into one of those conversations where I get really embarrassed because you're trying to talk to me about sex." Peach groaned as she headed to the doorway of the kitchen.

"I'm just saying that I would have a hard time voting for a man who would have his finger on the button, if he's not pushing my daughter's important buttons." Mrs. DiPiccio smiled lovingly at her daughter.

"I'm going to bed, mom." Peach nodded before leaving the kitchen and climbing the stairs toward her room. She laboured up a long flight of stairs to the upstairs hallway. Her mother had suggested that she and Nate share a bed tonight, something that would normally not be that big a deal considering the amount of times that they had shared close quarters in the past but it would be the first time since Manila.

Peach pulled down the stairs to the attic and climbed up to the guest bedroom. She saw Nate, lying on his side with the moonlight from the attic window playing on his face. "I want to thank you for coming." She said as she climbed into bed next to him.

"You don't have to." Nate answered drowsily.

"Why are you being so terse with me?" Peach asked, trying to turn him on his side to get him to face her.

"Because I've had a very hard time trusting you lately; because a few of the things that you accused me of in Manila, you really cut me to the quick." Nate answered, trying to roll away from her eyes.

"You never fought me on anything I said." Peach offered as an explanation for why they were where they were in their relationship.

"Because you said it with such finality that I was sure that saying something only would have made a bad situation, worse." Nate argued, finally realizing that there was no running from this argument.

"What if I want to retract it? What if I think that taking things just as they are, isn't what was meant for you and me?" Peach asked, softening her voice and inching closer to him on the mattress.

"I'd say that we should have had the realization years ago. But that doesn't mean that we're going to be able to just forget about everything that's happened recently." Nate closed his eyes slowly.

"Yeah, you get to play the wounded puppy but don't forget, there were times that you hurt me too." Peach tossed at him.

"Well, tell me about it. You want to have a relationship? Well people in relationships talk." Nate was now operating at half capacity.

"It hurt like hell, I don't know, I guess it was probably a lot like you've been feeling the last few weeks except that it happened to me more then once." Peach was slightly stumbling through her explanation.

"You do realize that I am profusely sorry for ever having hurt you like that, right?" Nate asked, seeing the hurt in her eyes.

"Yeah, I know that now, but at the time it just felt like you didn't give a damn. So, when everything just kind of came pouring out in Manila, yeah, I was a little cautious and I probably reacted on the same guarded feeling that I'd been bottling up for years." Peach reach out to touch him. "I just didn't want to hurt anymore. I guess I just didn't realize how much I would feel if you were in the same kind of pain. So, where do we go from here?"

"We have to realize that if we want to go on, we're going to have to forgive everything that happened before." Nate placed a hand on her hip. "We can't just forget about it either. We need to remember what it felt like because it should prevent us from ever doing anything like that." Nate lightly caressed her face. "On an unrelated matter, why is your mom so tough on the groom to be?"

"My mom always wanted her girls to marry a nice, rich, Catholic boy who would take care of us." Peach explained with a dreamy look.

"I'm not Catholic." Nate quipped.

"No, but my mother thinks you're going to be President, that trumps you not being Catholic." Peach explained as she curled up against him.

"So, you're mom just wanted you guy to have a nice Catholic boy who knew how to pray at the altar between your legs?" Nate showed off his signature smile.

"Is that all you can think about?" Peach questioned suddenly enjoying her new freedom to ask such questions.

"I spent nine years thinking only about your brain, personality and sense of humour, if I don't get to think of your body after nine years, I think I may explode." Nate joked.

"So, what does this mean? What do you want? What's in store for us?" Peach's optimistic tone was met by a chuckle.

"I want to experience all the highs and lows for the first time in a while. I want to know what it's like to be recklessly in love and rush things when I probably shouldn't and then opt for slowing things down when that's a bad idea. I want the whole world to know we're together but I want us to be able to argue in private." Nate ran the tips of his fingers through her hair.

"So what now? Do I join the First Lady's sewing circle or something?" Peach asked facetiously.

"No, there's no sewing circle to my knowledge; there is a book club." Nate paused for a second. "Regulations state that you can't work at the State Department any more."

"I know the regs. Work's not a problem, I'll deal with it." Peach reassured him. "Anything else I need to know?"

"Being the significant other of the Secretary of State carried certain ceremonial duties. My chief of staff will update you on the protocol but I do know for sure that you have to be with me at Camp David on Monday to greet the foreign ministers." Nate answered. "By the way, I saw some pictures around the house, why didn't you ever tell me your dad was a Marine?"

"For a while, I thought you knew, I thought Gavin had told you but when you seemed so completely in the dark on it all, I figured you liked being the dashing hero who came in to rescue the damsel in distress." She settled into his arms.

"It's scary how well you know me." Nate answered.

1512 ZULU

UNITED STATES NAVAL ACADEMY

ANNAPOLIS, MARYLAND

"Well, this is it." Harm stated as he finished helping Sergei move into his dorm room at Bancroft Hall.

"Do not worry, brother. I am a very social person, besides; I will have Anna to help me if things get tough as you have assured me they will." Sergei put a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Just remember, you can't date upper classman while you're a plebe." Mac reminded the idealistic young man.

"Whose rule is this, brother?" Sergei looked surprised as he turned to face Harm.

"USNA." Harm answered.

"Midshipman Ross reporting in, sir." Anna Ross showed up at the door to Sergei's dorm room. She came to attention in front of Harm and Mac, both of whom were in uniform as per regs on I-Day. "May I say that it's nice to see the Captain again and nice to meet the Colonel."

"At ease, Midshipman." Harm smiled as he remembered back to his own Academy days. "You going to look out for my little brother this year, Midshipman Ross?"

"I'll keep two eyes on him, sir. As often as I can spare them." Anna answered with a nod. She turned to face Sergei. "You're going to want to pick up the pace, Plebe Rabb. I hear your Midshipman-Lieutenant is going to make sure that you're humming the Marine Corps Hymn by the end of the day."

"Could you help me with the lyrics, Anna? I do not wish to come up short on my first day." Sergei put on his best puppy dog look.

"I taught you them, Sergei, remember? _From the Halls of Montezuma, to the shores of Tripoli."_ Anna started with her light soprano tone. Sergei began to join in, as did Mac and Harm was forced to role his eyes.

"Alright, alright, now that you've tortured the squid with the head injury, what are you going to do?" Harm joked, Mac decided to interject.

"Midshipman, what branch of the Marine Corps do you intend on entering after graduation?" Mac asked, looking over the young woman.

"MCIA, ma'am. My pop always said I had a keen mind." Anna smiled. Harm and Mac observed the silent interaction between the two young Midshipmen.

"I think it's best that we leave now, Mac. Give Midshipman Rabb time to settle in." Harm elbowed Mac in the ribs and the two of them headed out of the dorm room. The two of them walked down the hallways back toward the parking lot and Harm's Lexus. "So, what do you think, Mac?"

"You're brother's got it bad, Harm." Mac answered. "You heading out to Camp David tomorrow for the big anti-terrorism summit?"

"Got the call from the White House yesterday. I have to head up tonight, so I'll be dropping you off back at the apartment before heading up." Harm ventured a look in Mac's eyes to gauge her reaction.

"But we were supposed to move you back into your apartment tomorrow." Mac replied.

"So we'll do it next week." Harm kept walking. "Do you mind having my stuff take up space for another week?"

"No, no, it's just……it's nothing." Mac was starting to get a bad feeling very reminiscent of a few from the recent years.

"Come on, Mac, if something's bugging you, I want to know." Harm put his hands on her shoulders.

"No, Harm, it's okay, I just have this feeling." She waved it off and they continued toward the car.


	25. The Terrors of an Uncertain Future

_A/N: Alright, this is the Season Three Season Finale. We need a little time so that we can work ahead of what we're posting. For this chapter and parts of next season, you're going to need knowledge of who "Bax" is. We suggest you read or re-read the first chapter of our story "Reunions" _

"Would you calm down!" Peach lightly played with his tie. "The President not only gave you the lead on this summit, he let you hold it at Camp David, he obviously trusts you so stop being so damn fussy."

"Are you okay? I mean I know that entertaining the wives of foreign ministers isn't something that you would normally be satisfied with doing." Nate put his hands on her shoulders to stop her from continuing to straighten his tie.

"Are you kidding, this would have been a high profile detail for any of us when we were pushing papers at the Truman building, you and I work better when were work together, no matter what our jobs are." She lightly kissed him on the cheek.

"Mr. Secretary, the first Helo is touching down, sir. The Israelis are here." The Chief of Staff popped his head in the door. Peach dusted off the front of Nate's jacket and the two of them headed for the door. They walked through the compound and out the front door to where the Helo had landed on the lawn.

Nate and Peach met up with Harm and Mike out on the lawn. "The Israelis are her, care to explain to me why they're compromising a summit that would otherwise look like a meeting of key NATO allies?" Harm asked as he stood next to Nate.

"Simple, no one has fought as long and hard against Islamic terrorism as long as the Israelis have. With them and a few other organizations who are willing to help us, we've got a network here that would make Osama Bin Laden shit his pants." Nate answered as he watched the door to the Helo open and the Israeli delegation step out. Nate recognized the face leading the delegation. "Why did I have a feeling you would be here?"

"Because you are a most wise young man." Moshe replied. "And because Prime Minister Sharon wanted someone who could understand your psychology. His exact words to me were, 'he thinks too much like an Israeli for an American'."

"Too much like an Israeli?" Nate joked as he an Moshe hugged.

"May I introduce Israeli Foreign Minister Yitzhak Marin." Moshe moved aside to introduce the two senior diplomats.

"Very nice to meet you, Minister Marin." Nate reached out and shook the Israeli's hand. "Allow me to introduce my fellow delegates, Captain Harmon Rabb Jr. United States Navy and Mike Bradley. Also allow me to introduce my girlfriend Nicole DiPiccio."

"You seem to know Agent Goldstein, allow me to introduce my wife." Marin shook the hands of Harm and Mike as they all moved toward the doors to the compound. Nat's Chief of Staff came running up to meet them.

"Sir, everything is just as you ordered." The Chief of Staff assured him.

"So, you put the French and the Germans on the same Helo?" Nate asked.

"Yes, sir." The Chief of Staff affirmed as they continued walking into the compound.

"What I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall in that helicopter." Harm joked as the door closed behind them.

"They'll probably attempt to renegotiate the Versailles Treaty." Mike added.

"Which one?" Peach asked as they took their seats with the Israelis.

"Both." Harm answered and got laughs from everyone in the room. "So, the first meetings start with lunch, right?"

"Once all the delegations are here we head into the conference room where lunch will be waiting for everyone." The Chief of Staff affirmed in response to Harm's question. "With the appropriate dietary constrictions for our Jewish guests."

"Thank you, Leon." Nate nodded.

"I do hope that we will not only talk shop this week, Secretary Ross." Minister Marin's tone was almost challenging.

"Well, that remains to be seen, Minister." Nate answered.

"Amazing the way diplomats can get into silent dick measuring contests." Mike whispered to Harm.

"Completely amazing." Harm answered.

1837 ZULU

CAMP DAVID

FREDERICK COUNTY, MARYLAND

The greetings for all the diplomats had been fairly similar to the greeting extended to the Israeli delegation. Harm, Nate and company had greeted four more foreign ministers, including the heads of CSIS and MI6 as well as intelligence agents from the DGSE and BND. By the time that lunch came around, Nate and Harm were joking if they shook any more hands, they'd be elected joint congressman for the G8.

Now, the real crunch time had come. They had to bring up a way to really do something about the eighteen names that they had gotten from the coercive investigation of Ali Al-Bashram by the Israeli Mossad. "Well, gentlemen, it's nice to have you all here. I do hope that we'll get more out of this week then just a lot of talking, sore ears and a few shares of Ibuprofen stock." Harm opened the conference.

"Thank you, Captain Rabb but it was Secretary Ross as representative of President Russell who invited all of us here for the week." The French Foreign Minister piped up. Harm tried to hide the offence that he felt having been interrupted by the senior French diplomat.

"Gentleman, in the years since the 1648 Peace of Westphalia, there has been two types of war that the human species has fought. Those wars between states and those wars of revolution. Wars between states have always been decided by triumph of superior might and because those are the wars with which we are most used to fighting, that is how we seek to fight every war." Nate began to walk around the table. "We can't fight this war like that. The key to this war is going to be attrition. We have to make the price too high for them to be able to continue this war. That's why we have these eighteen names."

"What are you trying to ask of us, Mr. Ross? We all know the names of the men on this list, we all have intelligence portfolios on most of them that are a good mile long. What can we possibly do about it now that we couldn't do last week or last month?" The Director of MI6 asked.

"That's where the real nugget in all this comes out. We not only have the names but we were able to collect intelligence on their current projects and whereabouts. As such, we've divvied up the dossiers on each of the terrorists including all recent intelligence gathered on the men. The respective roles of our countries have determined that this is our time to work together to ensure that justice is swiftly visited upon these criminals. That at least, should be something that we can do together." Nate walked back over to his chair and sank down.

"So, we are expected to go along with some big American plan without even having heard it?" The Director of CSIS questioned.

"No, of course not." Mike Bradley interrupted. "The idea is that the two lists are divided into categories of those targets who will be killed and those targets who will merely be arrested for the purposes of interrogation and the further gathering of intelligence."

"Each country has been given parts of the world, each of which contains the whereabouts of three names on the list. The British delegation has been given the territory of the old Commonwealth countries, excepting Canada. The German delegation has been given Northern Europe and the Low Countries. The French delegation has been given the Iberian Peninsula and Southern Europe. The Israelis have been given their neighbouring countries of Syria, Lebanon and Jordan." Harm continued.

"American will cover the rest of the world as usual?" The German foreign minister asked.

"We'll do our best." Nate answered. "What we're here to negotiate is what each country wishes to do with the people on their list of three names and how we intend to go about bringing them in."

"From what I can see, the American list consists of Mourari, Ziyda and Fahd. Those are three of the biggest names on the Interpol list. Doesn't list seem a little unbalanced either in America's favour or against it?" Israeli Minister Marin asked.

"This group was the most widespread and outside of a single individual scope. It seemed the most reasonable thing for the Americans to assume that particular burden." Harm answered.

"This whole thing sounds like Operation Wrath of God to me." Moshe offered.

"It should, that's where we got the motivation. Wrath of God succeeded in taking out the support network for an entire terrorist organization. That's what we're trying to accomplish. After all, Wrath of God is just an Israeli take on the IRA operations from Bloody Sunday in 1920. It's a calculated attrition against the support structure of an organization." Nate leaned over the front of the table.

"Excuse me, sirs, is it at all possible that I might steal Secretary Ross for just a second." Nate's Chief of Staff appeared at the door to the main conference room. Nate raised a hand to motion to be excused before exiting the room. He closed the big oaken door behind him as he stepped out into the hallway.

"What is it, Leon?" Nate placed his hands on his hips clearly annoyed with having been interrupted.

"Sir, I just had a communiqué come in over the wire from the Pentagon. There was an attack in Kandahar at the courtroom where that friendly fire trial was taking place. Apparently, some member of the terrorist insurgency slipped passed security with a bomb attached to their body and took out most of the courtroom. There are several casualties including the lawyer for the defence." Leon bent his head with solemnity.

"Name?" Nate asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Lieutenant Commander Meg Austin, she was assigned by the NATO office to prosecute the matter. By the time that a corpsman saw her, she was gone." Leon informed him. "The legal team for the prosecution is in critical condition and they've been airlifted to the medical centre of the USS George Washington. They'll stabilize them and airlift them to Landstuhl."

"We got names for these servicemen, Leon?" Nate asked still looking like he was fighting a headache.

"Lieutenant Bud Roberts Jr. and Petty Officer Second Class Jennifer Coates, sir." Leon read the names off of the fax he had gotten from CENTCOM.

"Alright, Leon, were there any non-American casualties?" Nate began to lightly stroke his chin.

"A few Canadian witnesses for the prosecution are dead; sir and two German trial observers are in stable condition in a local field hospital." Leon exhaled heavily.

"Thank you, Leon, I'll take the news to the conference. That should be sufficient for us to break for the day." Nate took the fax and dismissed his Chief of Staff. He looked down at the paper and read the information one more time before cautiously walking back into the conference room. "I apologize for having been taken away, gentlemen. Something was just brought to my attention. It seems that at just about noon Kabul time, a suicide attack was carried out during the court-martial of the American pilot accused of having accidental bombed members of the PPCLI. American and Canadian Forces experienced fatalities in the attack and two German trial observers were wounded in the attack though I'm led to believe that their wounds are not serious."

"I believe that this is an appropriate point at which to break for the day." The Canadian Foreign Minister closed the folder in front of him.

"I agree, I invite our guests to enjoy their stay in the compound and I hope to have dinner with at least a few of you after you make contact with your respective governments." Nate put the clipboard in his hands on its side on the table and watched as the room emptied. "Mr. Bradley, Captain Rabb, I do need to talk to the two of you for a moment."

Harm and Mike exchanged a look before hanging back. "What's on your mind, Nate?" Harm asked.

"Harm, you need to hear this and being as I'm the best equipped party here to deliver the news, I'll just tell you. Harm you knew a few people involved in today's attack in Kandahar." Nate watched as the expression on Harm's face sank through the floor.

"Bud?" Harm asked in a voice only slightly above a whisper.

"Yes, Lieutenant Roberts was involved but last reports indicate that he's in critical condition on the airlift route from the site of the attack to Landstuhl with a stopover in the medical centre of the Washington to stabilize him. Harm, his legalman, a Petty Officer Coates was also wounded in the attack, do you know her?"

"Yes." Harm nodded briefly.

"I don't know the exact details yet, but if the language of the report I read is anything to go by, the Petty Officer likely saved Lieutenant Roberts fro greater harm. Her condition is only slightly worse than his and she's on route to Landstuhl as well." Nate breathed in and settled his nerves; they were just about to hit the hard part. "Harm, Meg Austin was the defence attorney, specially assigned to the case by the NATO office in London. She died in the attack."

Harm felt like he'd been shot. Sure there was nothing between Meg and him in a romantic sense but she was still and friend and a loss that he would truly feel. He nodded as he felt tears stinging his eyes. "Can I go?" He asked, sounding dejected and really wanting to get back to his room and try and settle himself. Nate gave him a pat on the shoulder and Harm quietly exited the room. When the door closed, Mike looked up at Nate.

"I'm guessing you've got a message from Washington telling you to do something about this?" Mike asked sarcastically.

"Yeah, you'd think that something like that should fall to the Secretary of Defence rather then my office." Nate replied. "I think we need to get a team together now and go after a few of the names in response to the attack. Get your boys at Langley on it; you know the names for the team we constructed?"

"I sure do. You want me to tell Reid to make sure that they're set to head off?" Mike asked.

"That would be nice, tell him that they're to be wheels-up in forty-eight hours." Nate and Mike walked toward the door. "What feelings did you get from the delegates with regard to this little plan of ours?"

"The British and the Israelis are definitely on our side. The French were dead set against it and until you came into the room with your news it seemed as thought the Germans and Canadians were set to join them." Mike and Nate headed toward the bedrooms in the main retreat building.

"How did you read the Canadians and Germans after I delivered the news?" Nate had his arms cross in front of him.

"The Germans were stoic up until you mentioned that they'd had a few men wounded in the attack. That seemed to strike a chord. The Canadian Foreign Minister seemed incredibly aggrieved, look for old Pierre to talk to you some time later on tonight to get a sense of how firm you are on the plan that you've got worked out." Mike gave Nate a pat on the back as he broke away and headed for his room to patch through his call to Langley.

Harm sat on the edge of his bed in his room. That sure was one hell of a sucker-punch to the stomach that he had taken. Bud Roberts, his close friend was on an air transport over some godforsaken stretch of desert in the Middle East on his way to try and repair whatever bodily injury he had incurred all because the security couldn't keep a crazy man out of a courtroom. The bile churned in Harm's stomach as he thought about it, about how real the possibility was that Little AJ might grow up without a father. He dropped his face in his hands.

Harm's mind shifted to the fresh face of Petty Officer Coates. True, when he had met her at Christmas, she was a girl headed down the wrong road in life but ever since then she had made such a concerted effort to turn her life around. And she had done so, even becoming Bud's legal-man on board the Seahawk. She was a good woman with a long life ahead of her yet in the blink of an eye; the same man who had severely wounded Bud had wounded her in the same stroke. What's more he did it while she was shielding Bud from further pain. The rage began to burn a long trail of fire up to Harm's throat.

Then there was the last blow; Meg. She was another close friend and unlike Bud and Coates, he knew that she, like so many in war, was headed home in a pine box. Harm wrung his hands out. Sweet, innocent Meg was never going to see that Texas ranch where she grew up ever again. She was never going to get to have that little girl that she had so badly wanted. He'd never see her give him 'Hook'em horns' again. They hadn't parted on the best of terms a few months ago but never did he think that would be the last time that their paths would cross. He got up from the bed; he wasn't going to take this lying down.

2314 ZULU

CAMP DAVID

FREDERICK COUNTY, MARYLAND

"It's a good night for a cigar." Moshe walked out on to the porch where he saw Nate standing with a cigar between two fingers on one hand and the stem of a red wine glass between two fingers on the other hand.

"It's a good night after what has been a rather shitty day." Nate answered as he watched the sun fall behind the trees.

"After all these years, I wouldn't have thought it would still hit you so hard. I told you many years ago that you couldn't let them inside because that was how they won. You've been fighting it almost as long as I have, Nathan." Moshe leaned up against the wooden railing of the porch.

"I think Harmon Rabb and I were the only to guys in the United States to have a CIA profile before we could legally drink, drive or gamble." Nate joked. "I don't know any other kid in High School who spent his summers hunting Black September and Hamas terrorists in the West Bank. Wasn't what I had in mind when I said that I wanted to spend my summer in the Holy Land."

"You were a natural with a gun. When we got ambushed, it only made sense to arm you. You took to it so naturally that it just made sense to keep taking you with me. You were the youngest agent attached to Mossad." Moshe chuckled lightly. "Do you hate me for robbing you of your teenage years in such a way?"

"No, we're all here for some reason or another. I was at a point in my life where I was just as convinced at the Mossad and the Marines that I was here to shoot people. I know better now, I didn't then and the bitch of it all is that on some level, it was a game to me." Nate took a long drag on the cigar. As he let a puff of smoke fly from his lips, Harmon Rabb came walking out to meet him.

"I want in." Harm was blunt.

"In on what?" Nate asked turning toward him.

"Whatever you've got planned and don't bullshit me, I know you're working on something right now and I want in on it. So, come hell or high-water, Nate, you're letting me in." Harm's vocal tone was set to a grizzly bear growl.

"Harm, in case you've forgotten, you underwent a craniotomy a little more then six weeks ago. That's major medical surgery. I can't let you do anything so soon after such a procedure." Nate was just as determined to prevent Harm from getting target fixated and getting himself killed.

"My doctor cleared me for a return to full active duty last Friday. There isn't a thing in the world I can't do now that I was able to do before." Harm argued smugly.

"Harm you won't like it. You don't have the psyche for it after Indonesia. Some times you just have to know when to get out of the game." Nate put a hand on his friend's shoulder but Harm brushed it off.

"Listen, you went through hell to get to Peach in Indonesia so don't give me this spy bullshit about coming in out of the cold. I want in and you know that I'll get in somehow." Harm was really pushing his challenge.

"No, what I know is that you're off the glide-path again. You don't have the ball, Rabb, don't you get it? I'm waving you off." Nate gritted his teeth.

"I'll go to Reid or the CNO or whoever I need to go to, why don't you just make things easy on me and you and just let me in on this one." Harm questioned.

"Because I don't know where you'll be fore sure, I don't know how long you'll be gone and I can't guarantee that you'll live." Nate replied simply.

"Nate, I can get this guy. I have skills your team might need. You need to let me in on this." Harm was really stressing his argument knowing that he was nearing the end of his rope.

"Why do you want to go on this mission so badly?" Nate asked.

"Call it vengeance for what Bashram did to me in Indonesia; call it avenging wounds done to my friends by this bastard and his whole rotten organization, call it whatever you want but let me on this mission!" Harm had hit the end of his tether. Nate brought a hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose again.

"Fine, you're in. The chopper was waiting to take Mike to Langley, you catch it, you're taking his place. Be at Langley for 0630 Wednesday." Nate turned back toward Moshe and looked out into the grove of trees. "Harm?" Nate turned back to face the tall Naval aviator who was walking away from him. "Don't make me regret this." Harm bowed his head for a second in contemplation before turning away from Nate and heading for the chopper.

0356 ZULU

CAMP DAVID

FREDERICK COUNTY, MARYLAND

Nate groaned as he sat on the couch and pulled the shoes off his feet. "Long day." He said aloud as he rolled his head around. Peach crawled up behind him and began to rub his shoulders. Nate reached up and took one of her hands in his and brought it to his lips for a quick kiss. "How about you?"

"Me?" Peach asked as she leaned her head down on his shoulder. "My day was okay. It's interesting how well you can read the respective Foreign Ministers just on who their wives are."

"Oh, and what makes you say that?" Nate lay back on the bed as Peach moved over.

"Well, you can just tell how evolved and deep the guy is. The French Foreign Minister for example, he's on his third trophy wife, similarly with the Canadian Foreign Minister." Peach explained as she turned to cuddle into him.

"Well they're Frenchmen, that's what they do." Nate joked.

"Alright, then how do you explain the British delegate? His wife used to be an obstetrician or the Israeli Foreign Minister, his wife used to be an IDF Captain." Peach lightly kissed his cheek.

"Alright, alright, point proven." Nate chuckled as he turned to face her. He lightly kissed her forehead. "When we get married, you have to promise to try and stop me from doing anything as stupid as I did tonight." Nate watched as her eyes went wide for a second and she raised a hand to her mouth. She then proceeded to knock the wind out of him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I must have said something right."

"Yeah, you moron, you clearly stated your intentions without going all Princeton and dancing around the subject." Peach whispered into his ear as she seductively began to kiss his neck.

"Honey, that's very nice but I have a serious problem right now." Nate smiled as Peach continued what she was doing.

"You always have a serious problem." Peach answered as her hot breath tickled his neck. "I like that you think you can talk to me about anything but honey you have to understand, I spent eight hours in a room with women who were either talking about themselves or some weird haute couture style. Add to that, I spent nine years working with you everyday. The sexual tension has been building for quite a while; you're going to have to work with me here." She ran her hands over his chest.

"Nicole, baby, I really need to get this off my plate before I can give you my full attention and trust me, I really want to do that." Nate covered her hands with his again. Peach ceased what she was doing just to hear him out.

"Alright, God any other man would just throw me down on the bed and go all cave man on me. I end up with the one man on the planet who would rather talk then roll in the sheets. Fine, what's on your mind?" Peach crawled into his lap so at least he could hold her while he confided in her.

"We're going after Abu Ziyda for the attack on the courtroom today. I was involved in compiling a special team of men for the purposes of taking out Ziyda." Nate lightly began to stroke her arm. "Mike was supposed to head the team."

"Oh, I'm sure that had his wife doing cartwheels." Peach rolled her eyes.

"I had to pull Mike; I had a request to replace him with someone who's more qualified in a lot of areas and equally as qualified in other areas. Harm asked me to get him on the mission and against my better judgement, I did." Nate let out a heavy breath.

"He just had major surgery not long ago. There's no way he could have passed a fit rep to get back on full duty after that, just yet." Peach curled against him.

"I had Leon get me his doctor at Bethesda; Commander Chase assures me that Harm couldn't be more fit if he were Superman." Nat e closed his eyes for a second. "I need to know that I'm doing the right thing by letting him risk his life."

"You're looking for an answer I can't give you. One of the things about being human is that we can't see into the future as much as we might like to be able to. But I know the man I love and I know that when it comes down to it, if you make a decision, a part of you knows that it was the right thing to do; even if it produces unexpected results. You'll just have to wait to see how this one pans out." She lightly brushed his cheek with her hand. "Now that I've given you what you need; care to return the favour?" She tossed him a saucy wink.

"I feel like such a toy." Nate chuckled as the two of them slid back on the bed.

TUESDAY 1725 ZULU

MAC'S APARTMENT

GEORGETOWN, DC

Harm had to go to Mac's where most of his clothes were since they hadn't had the chance to move them back over to his place yet. He was busy tossing clothes into a sea-bag when he heard the sound of Mac clearing her voice come from the doorway to the guest room. Harm stopped what he was doing and slowly turned to face her. She was standing there in her blue bathrobe cradling a hot cup of coffee between her two hands. "Trying to sneak out?" She ventured as she moved into the room.

"I thought you'd be at work." Harm moved toward her.

"I can see that. The Admiral gave us the day off to come to terms with what happened to Bud. I'm stopping by Harriet's later. I would have said that you would be going there as well but you don't need to pack a sea-bag to go to Harriet's." Mac sat on the edge of the guest bed. "Talk to me, Harm."

"I can't tell you much. I'm leaving, I don't know where I'm going and I don't know when I'll be back." Harm zipped up the sea-bag.

"Is Webb involved in this?" Mac asked.

"He could be. I really wouldn't have any way of knowing. My orders are to go to Langley tomorrow morning." Harm sat down next to her.

"Did you volunteer for this?" Mac was really getting a few bad feelings about what was happening.

"More like pressured the supervising authority in order to be included in this. He was concerned about my health." Harm answered.

"Harm, why do you have to do this? Isn't one brush with death enough for you this year?" Mac's voice broke in mid-sentence, ruining all chance she had placed on maintaining Marine stoicism.

"Mac, you don't understand…" Harm started but she cut him off.

"Bullshit! It's you that doesn't understand. I can't keep seeing you stretched out on hospital beds, mere inches from death. I can't keep doing it Harm, or can't you see that it kills me a little more every time I have to do that? Don't placate me, don't try and reassure me, just don't go!" Mac was fighting tears.

"I have to." Harm answered softly.

"Why? What is compelling you to go and risk your life? What is more important to you then being here with the people who need you right now? I need you right now, don't you understand that?" Mac turned to face him and he tried to curl her up in his arms. "And damn you, why I'm the only one crying again!"

"Because there's nothing sad about this one, aside from the circumstances that caused it, I'm coming back." Harm tried to soothe her but he didn't succeed.

"What did I just say?" Mac was indignant. "I'm a Marine for God's sake, Harm. I may not know exactly what you're getting into but I do know the risks." Harm realized that there was really nothing more that he could do. He got up and through the sea-bag over his shoulder before heading for the door of the guest room. He turned back for a second to look at Mac. She was still sitting on the edge of the bed in her dark blue bathrobe. "By the way, Mac; I bought a plant for my apartment." Harm then continued his walk out of the apartment.

WEDNESDAY 1057 ZULU

CIA HEADQUARTERS

LANGLEY, VIRGINIA

"Rabb, since when are you ever early for anything?" Clayton Webb was leaning against his car in the parking lot.

"Oh God, Webb; tell me I don't have to work with you on this one." Harm rolled his eyes as he walked over to the familiar agent.

"Sorry, looks like you're stuck with me for however long this thing lasts. We're supposed to meet two other members of the team here." Webb looked around the parking lot.

"Not more spooks, tell me that Nate has at least that much sense." Harm joked as he stood next to Clay, leaning on the car.

"No, Secretary Ross recruited a Marine and a Navy SEAL to round out our team. I believe the exact words he gave to Reid and Kershaw were 'I'll be damned if I let the CIA fuck this up like they fucked up Iran.' So, the only way that the CIA was getting any men on this mission was if we had some military men with us who knew how to get the job done." Webb explained. "I don't know what he's got a grudge against the Company about; the guy has as much spy in him as anyone I know."

"Maybe, but he's just an assassin. He may have worked for the CIA on a few missions as a sniper but Nate never lost the idea that he participated as an officer in the Marine Corps. There's a reason that he trusts Marines and SEALs, they're highly trained and fiercely loyal whereas CIA agents are just trained." Harm had to laugh. "Can't say I blame him; I'd trust Chegwidden or Mac with my life before you."

"Just the thing you want to tell someone that you're going on a mission with." Webb shook his head. "I'm guessing that you have no idea what we're doing or where we're going either."

"Not a clue. Nate told me that only the person in charge of the mission was given the details. Since that was supposed to be Mike, and neither you nor I have the details, my guess is that one of our two missing teammates has the details of the plan." Harm turned his eyes toward the pavement.

"Well, it's not me." A familiar voice came walking up behind them.

"Gunny!" Harm exclaimed, happy to see the familiar Marine. "You're the Marine assigned to his mission?"

"Yes, sir, after that little trip through the jungle in Indonesia, I told the Secretary that I would like to use my training as a Marine to fight terrorism on a more precise level. So, he offered me this job." Gunny finished shaking Harm's hand. "I had a feeling that I would be seeing Mr. Webb soon and in answer to your question, I'm just as curious as to who will lead our team, sir."

"I think that I may have an answer to that question." Another voice was heard in the parking lot. To Harm the voice was vaguely familiar, he hadn't heard it in a long time but he slowly recognized the voice.

"I believe that's the voice of Commander Ethan Baxter, United States Navy SEAL. Let me guess, you're our new CO?" Harm turned to see his old friend walking through the parking lot.

"I got the call from the Deputy Director of Central Intelligence last night." Bax stood in front of his team. "Gentlemen, we're about to board a helicopter that will take us to Dover AFB. From Dover we hop a military transport to the NATO airfield in Kabul. From there, a squad of Recon Marines attached to the 22nd MEU is going to take us over the border into Pakistan from there, we're going to search for Abu Ziyda in one of the most hostile regions on the planet. Gentlemen, we're going to Kashmir." Bax took a breath and the four men walked over to the Helo that had set down in the parking lot while Bax had been talking.

1104 ZULU

HARM'S APARTMENT

NORTH OF UNION STATION

Sarah MacKenzie used her key to get into Harm's apartment. She heard a scratching coming from Harm's bedroom and she instinctively went toward it with her gun drawn. When she got into the bedroom, Mac found the most heart-warming sight. In a small kennel cage was a German Shepherd puppy. There was a note written on yellow legal paper attached to the front of the cage. Mac picked up the note and began to read.

_Dear Ninja-girl,_

_Hope this is better then a plant. I want you to know that I am coming back and that this puppy is a way for us to be close while I'm not here. I named the pooch 'jarhead', German Shepherds are just too hardcore to have anything other then a Marine name and I know how much you miss Jingo since he went to live with Chloe. I'll be back._

_Harm_

_End of Season Three_


	26. The Everlasting Present Part 1

_A/N: Since you all have been so patient in awaiting Season Four, we figured we'd give you a little treat. The Season Premiere is two parts! Now, the debate here was whether or not to post both parts together or not. We decided to post them together but we want you guys to know that doesn't let you out of having to review both of them so let's get a separate review for each part of the Season Premiere, pretty please! We love you guys, so show us some extra love on this one. _

_2 Months following the Season Three Finale_

0614 LOCAL

NORTH OF 34th PARALLEL

SOMEWHERE IN AZAD, KASHMIR

"Boss, we've been sitting in this godforsaken part of the world for six weeks. I can tell you minute by minute what Ziyda does through the day. Can we just go get him and haul his ass home?" Gunny was noticeably frustrated as he hid with the others in the brush across from the safehouse.

"Something's been bugging me about this whole thing. Why would Ziyda hide in a part of the world like Azad where he would be right under the nose of Indian intelligence who would rather shoot him themselves then risk another Muslim, especially a terrorist, entering their borders." Webb wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Webb, think like an Islamic terrorist. There are a few places in the world where hatred of you is so fierce that the thought of you hiding anywhere near there would make your enemies laugh. For Ziyda, places like Israel, India or America would practically order a shoot on sight notice just on the suspicion that he might be in the country. So, he would hide out on the doorstep because they wouldn't check. Places like the West Bank, Kashmir or even Mexico are perfect because the internal instability allows them to go unnoticed." Harm dropped his eyes from the binoculars for a second. "Speaking of which, Bax, Gunny's right; can we just boat this bass already?"

"Just a little while longer. Our orders are to apprehend Ziyda without getting ourselves killed or causing a big international stink." Bax was still looking through his binoculars.

"I thought our orders were arrest Ziyda and eliminate his bodyguards." Harm stated. "What about that is avoiding a big international stink?"

"You have a silencer on your gun don't you?" Bax fired off a retort.

"That's the Secretary's idea of avoiding a big international stink?" Gunny was in disbelief.

"Your tax dollars at work." Webb joked. "If I had a guess; I'd say that the reason that no one went to any real measures to prevent this from making headlines is that they want it to make headlines."

"What the hell kind of screwed up sense does that make, Webb?" Harm turned to face the spook.

"No, think about it. Webb, idiot though he is, is right; the Secretary can't just call up Osama Bin Laden and tell him to fuck off but if he publicly had a high-ranking member of an Al Qaeda shura apprehended by American mercenaries, it would be the same message but in a much more threatening delivery." Bax realized that he was still looking at two blank faces. "It's like when the mob breaks your brother's legs to get you to pay up on your debt. They want you to know that they can get to you. That's the message we're giving Al Qaeda leaders just by being here."

"We're also risking our asses without a lot of cover." Harm responded with a weary tone.

"But we're covering for each other. We know that if we look out for each other we should make it through unscathed." Gunny chuckled at his turn to have a revelation. "So that's what you get when you combine a Marine and a politician."

"What's that, Gunny?" Harm asked.

"One sly son of a bitch, sir." Gunny answered.

1342 ZULU

NATE ROSS' CONDO

FOGGY BOTTOM, DC

The alarm clock buzzed and was punched for the third time this Sunday morning as Nate rolled back over into the bed to lie face to face with Nicole. He watched as her eyes flickered open. "Morning." She whispered drowsily and quickly kissed his lips. "Honey, no more black tie galas for a while okay? If I have to have one more Senator or diplomat commend me on that essay I wrote for Time while they stare at my breasts, I may scream."

"I agree, there are far too many men staring at your breasts." Nate smiled weakly. "I agree with you on the black tie thing, too many people want to shake my hand."

"Wait until you run for President, they're going to want you to kiss their babies too." Peach smiled as she cuddled into his chest.

"Who says I'm going to run for President?" Nate seemed to be slightly unnerved by the question.

"Honey, the Presidential election is in two years; thirteen months until the filing deadline and the New Hampshire Primary and let's face it, you're the Democrats best chance to beat Andrew Russell." Peach's tone softened. "Everyone thinks you're going to run."

"No sitting cabinet secretary has ever ran against the sitting President." Nate was slowly beginning to come awake.

"No cabinet secretary has ever been from the other party." Peach retorted.

"I'm not even sure that I can run against him and still be in the cabinet. Besides, I'm not sure that I want to run just yet." Nate bowed his head to kiss her knuckles.

"What do you mean, just yet?" Peach raised her eyebrows.

"Well, I've only just found you, I'd like to get married, settle into being your husband and even start that family you want and I would find it hard to do that while either running to be the Leader of the Free World or actually being the President."

"Are you actually saying that I mean more to you then being President?" Peach was stunned, just when she thought that she had Nate all figured out, he could still throw a curve ball.

"Without a doubt. I'd rather take a smaller post and have the time to spend with you then take on the big job right now. Doesn't mean I won't do it eventually, I'd just like the decision to be one that we make together." Nate began to work on that soft spot on her neck.

"Okay, this is totally not fair. I have to go and do bridal party stuff for your sister's wedding and you decide to start this? Oh no, mister, I have to go and get ready and you'll just have to wait until I get home." Peach crawled out of bed with the bedsheet wrapped around her.

"Would getting ready involve taking a shower?" Nate asked.

"I guess." Peach furrowed her brow then her eyes went wide as Nate got out of the bed.

"Then I'll join you." Nate chased her into the bathroom as she giggled in hilarity.

1405 ZULU

MAC'S APARTMENT

GEORGETOWN, DC

"Come on, Jarhead." Mac gave the back of her thigh a pat as the dog followed her into the apartment. "You're getting too big, pooch." Mac chuckled as the dog jumped up from the floor on to the couch and nearly went soaring over the back. She filled his food and water bowls and gave his head a quick pet as the dog lapped happily at his water. His mistress was one of a kind, that's for sure and he seemed to really take to her. "Alright, boy, you be good until I get back okay?" Mac knelt down and cradled his head in her hands. "Mrs. Svenson will be by in a few hours to take you for a walk."

Mac quickly showered and changed. She ran a towel through her hair as she walked through the living room toward the door. She through on her jacket and headed for the door. "Middle of November and I'm headed outside with wet hair." She mused aloud as she waved goodbye to Jarhead.

Mac was going to meet the other bridesmaids for a few more touch ups on the wedding next weekend. In the last few weeks, she had certainly spent a bit of time with Peach, Anna and Bev and found them to be a most enjoyable group of women even if they weren't her regular circle of friends. Harriet had been busy with Bud since he'd gotten home from sea duty after the attack on the courthouse in Kandahar a few months earlier.

Peach had stopped by to pick her up as they were to meet Bev and Anna (on weekend liberty from the Academy). Mac came downstairs to see Peach leaning against the passenger side door of her car. "Leave it to a Marine to be right on time." Peach joked as Mac came walking out of her apartment building.

"You live with one; you'd think you would be used to it by now." Mac retorted as she stepped on to the sidewalk.

"I don't think I'll ever be used to how squared away you Marines can be. The thought of having a kid like Nate who can look down at his watch and tell me exactly how many seconds until we have to be in the car in order to make it to school on time would be frightening if it wasn't so adorable." Peach walked around the front of the car and watched as Mac stood stalk still next to her door on the sidewalk.

"Are you……you know?" Mac asked cautiously.

"What?" Peach retorted looking confused.

"Well, I just assumed, you know a woman in a serious relationship, talking about kids, one assumes that she's…" Mac stopped for a second a shrugged her shoulders suggestively which cause Peach to chuckle.

"Expecting? Sorry, not the case." Peach put the car in drive and headed to the flower shop in Georgetown where they were going to meet Bev and Anna for one last double-check on the floral arrangements. "A bridesmaid's work is never done, huh?"

"Don't let me think about it, I'm a bridesmaid at a wedding for which I have no date." Mac rolled her eyes.

"Still no word from Harm then, huh?" Peach asked as she took a corner.

"You don't mince words, huh?" Mac was shocked by the forthrightness of Peach's approach. She stopped for a second before venturing on. "Has Nate told you anything?"

"As far as I know, there are only four people in the United States who know where they are and that's Nate, The President, the Director of Central Intelligence and the Chief of Naval Operations. Other then that, no one has security clearance to know and no one who does know, is telling. Sorry." Peach put the car in park along the side of the street in front of the flower shop.

"It's just kind of hard you know? It's tough for me to know that he's out there and in danger and no know where he is, what he's doing or if the people he's with, give a damn whether he lives or dies." Mac paused again to compose herself. "I'm sorry, I don't know where that came from."

"I do, it's okay, Mac. I know there are times and circumstances where I could see myself feeling the same way." Peach and Mac moved over the sidewalk and into the shop.

The bridal party spent a few minutes talking with each other and then they spent more then a half an hour going over the floral arrangements with the shop owner. The four of them took a pause. Young Anna Ross threw herself down in a chair and with a heavy sigh, she raised her hand to her forehead.

"Anna? What's wrong? You look like you've been run through the washing machine during the spin cycle." Beverly knelt down next to her sister.

"I've just got a lot on my mind." Anna answered dismissively. Mac and Peach turned to look at each other.

"Men problems." They said simultaneously and then pulled up chairs so that they could all sit down and have a talk with Anna. "Alright, honey, who's causing the problem?"

"My boyfriend, he's being such a petty jerk." Anna started rubbing her temples. "I've never seen any guy get so jealous so quickly."

"What happened?" Beverly asked, unable to resist falling back on the counselling part of her job training.

"Well, I've been trying to help this young Midshipman that I know, get used to Academy life by helping him with a few of his classes since his grasp of English is less than completely proficient. Anyway, my boyfriend Dave is this guy's Midshipman-Lieutenant and now, every time his insecurities get the better of him, he makes this poor guy's life hell." Anna was obviously moved by her predicament.

"Sounds like a quality man." Peach mused sarcastically.

"Nicole!" Bev turned quickly eye to eye with her brother's girlfriend. "She's having a hard enough time without you being critical."

"Fine, sorry, Anna I know this must be tough for you." Peach squared herself up in a way that would have made a Marine proud.

"Well, you know how Midshipmen are supposed to participate in sports, right?" Anna started and she got nods from the other women. "Well, Dave was last year's Captain of the hockey team and hence, he's this year's captain as well. He and Sergei have to play on a line together, the coach was ecstatic to have a Russian skater like him. Well the two of them came to blows at the last practice and Dave said that I had to choose, between being his girlfriend or Sergei's friend. I told him that it wasn't fair to make me choose but he said that being in a relationship shouldn't involve competing for my time. Have any of you been in this situation? I could really use some help."

"Yes." Mac and Peach said simultaneously once again.

"What did you guy's do?" Anna asked hopefully.

"I never stopped being friends with your brother, and as a result I ended up breaking up with the guy I had been dating at the time. Not until after he and your brother had beaten the hell out of each other." Peach had to laugh lightly.

"In my case, it was a little different but the eventual end was the same, I'm still friends with the one guy but I've long since ditched the boyfriend." Mac put a hand on Anna's shoulder. "And I've long since learned that those kind of men just aren't worth it."

0908 LOCAL

NORTH OF 34th PARALLEL

SOMEWHERE IN AZAD, KASHMIR

"Alright, Webb, Gunny and Harm, you three have to go in together, I'll stay out here and cover you. Remember, as far as we know; only Ziyda and his immediate bodyguard team are in there. You have two hundred and ten seconds to get in there and get him out before the local Al Qaeda cavalry come rushing in. That means that you have to be back out this exit to the cave. The Marines are already in the air, a transport from the Truman was launch an hour ago and they're expected here any minute. It's been a pleasure serving with you guys." Bax shook hands with each member of the team.

"Just make sure that those jarheads stick around to get us out of here, Commander." Webb loaded the clip into his gun.

"Marines never leave a man behind, Mr. Webb; even if he is an ungrateful spook." Gunny retorted.

"I wouldn't take on the Marine Corps, Webb. They're more highly trained and slightly crazy then any group of Company men that you can put together." Harm brought the AK-47 down into his hands and checked the magazine before turning toward the cave. "It's two hundred and ten seconds starting with the first shot, right?"

"Yeah, it's been good seeing you again, buddy." Bax reached out and shook his old Academy buddy's hand.

"It's been too damn long for me to die doing something as simple as this. You just make sure that those Marines are here when we get back out of the cave." Harm pulled him in for a quick bear hug. "See you in five minutes." With that, Bax took his post as Harm, Gunny and Webb entered the dark subterranean cavern. Webb led the way with Gunny in the middle and Harm bringing up the rear. There were caves like this one all over Pakistan and Afghanistan but the intelligence that they had gathered told them that Abu Ziyda was in this one and there own observations over the last few months confirmed that intelligence.

They were a long way from Washington now. Their orders were simple. Take Ziyda alive and kill everyone else in the cave. They got regular messages from Langley and from Nate and the State Department. The basic idea of these operations was to prove to Osama Bin Laden, that no on in untouchable. If they could get Ziyda, then they could get Zawahiri or anyone else in the Al Qaeda command. The SAS had made a capture of a terrorism suspect in South Africa earlier in the week but news of that wasn't going to reach them, they were too far removed to know of that news.

The rounded a bend and Gunny checked around the corner and nodded in the affirmative to Harm. Sure enough, Ziyda and his personal body team were there at what looked like a convergence of three other caves besides the one that they themselves had come down. Their intelligence said nothing about such an elaborate system. Gunny had his gun drawn and he and Harm exchanged a set of silent signals that basically amounted in an agreement to open fire.

There was no time for precision in this operation. With the discovery of the new routes into the cave system, their time window was exponentially shorter. Within seconds, the sounds of rounds of automatic rifle fire rang through the caves as the members of Abu Ziyda's team fell like lead weights. Webb ducked under the gunfire and roughly grabbed Ziyda around the neck and hauled him up into the retreat. "Didn't waste any time, Webb." Harm commented.

"Not as if we had any to waste, Rabb." Webb answered as he handed off Ziyda to Harm. The Arab man was cursing at his western kidnappers in a linguistic fury as he was being manhandled on the way up to the cave entrance. The gunfire began to build behind them as they worked up the slope to their eventual escape. As they hit the straight, unwinding climb that led to the light of the Pakistani morning, bullets began to whiz passed.

"Y'ever get the feeling that you're being followed?" Harm joked to Ziyda who was unable to understand him and rather looked at him curiously. The shots seemed to get closer to them as they got closer to the exit until eventually they saw Webb fall to the ground. Gunny instinctively reached down and took Webb by the arms and dragged him from the cave and out into the open clearing where the team was greeted by the sound of a Marine UH1 helicopter and their friendly Navy SEAL team leader.

"How bad is he hit?" Bax asked as everyone clambered on to the chopper.

"Looks like he took one in the lower abdomen. The bleeding's not too bad. If we keep pressure on it, it may even stop." Harm answered, slightly out of breath.

"How far out from the Truman are we, sir?" Gunny asked, looking up at his CO.

"A little more then an hour, Gunny." Bax answered and then turned to confront Abu Ziyda. "As for Mr. Ziyda, the Secretary gave me very specific instructions for how to talk to him." Bax then began to rhyme off a prepared speech in Arabic.

"I didn't know that you spoke Arabic." Harm inquired as he pressed down a pressure bandage on Webb's wound.

"I don't, the Secretary prepared the speech and told me to memorize it. It's sort of the Miranda rights for a terrorist." Bax had one of the Marines put a pair of shackles on Ziyda's wrists. "Basically it states that since they were not participants in any armed conflict and are not American citizens, we are perfectly within our rights to make their lives absolute hell and there isn't a damn thing they can do about it.

0113 ZULU

REHEARSAL DINNER

ANNAPOLIS, MARYLAND

"AJ, don't you think you should really have a best man? I mean, honey, I know that you wanted Harm to be here but it doesn't look like he's going to make it." Bev walked over to the Admiral and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Rabb will be here; this is just how he does things." The Admiral protested. In truth, no one with the exception of Nate knew where Harm was or had any reason to believe that he would be back in the DC area in time for the wedding or the rehearsal. Nate largely kept to himself, standing near the back of the chapel with his brother and father, partaking of the scotch that the Commandant had brought to the rehearsal.

"It's good scotch, dad." Nate gave his head a quick shake after chancing another taste. Steve had to cough after he took a drink.

"Damn good, dad." Steve added as he tried to breathe normally again after his coughing fit.

"I should have taught you two how to drink like Marines, for God's sake, it's only a little scotch." General Jack gave his youngest boy a hard slap on the back. Peach came walking over when she saw that the three of them had managed to rope in the reverend and Sturgis to their drinking circle.

"What are you three up to now? You do know that you're here to rehearse for Beverly's wedding tomorrow." Peach sternly put her hands on her hips.

"Now simmer down, Nicole. AJ wouldn't let us throw a bachelor party for him, so we're throwing one in his honour." General Jack answered as he poured the next round of shots.

"By drinking scotch in the back of the Cathedral of the Navy?" Peach asked, looking thoroughly disappointed with the retired Marine four-star.

"Damn right!" The Reverend answered as the scotch glasses clinked together and everyone downed the next drink.

"Besides, AJ has already stated that he has no intention of starting until his best man gets here." Nate blatantly checked his watch. "We'll serious up and sober up the minute Harm walks through those back doors, if that happens any time tonight."

"You know something, spill." Peach elbowed her boyfriend in the shoulder.

Nate chuckled before answering. "I know nothing."

"I'll verify that." Steve added which caused the group of men to laugh.

"You checked your watch after you mentioned that the Admiral wouldn't start until Harm got here, it's as if you're expecting him. What do you know?" Peach goaded him, knowing that she was unlikely to break that Marine stoicism even if he did have a few drinks in his system.

"In the words of Sergeant Schultz; I know nussing, NUSSING!" Nate answered with a quick smile as his dad poured him another drink.

"Alright, folks, we're going to start now, since it doesn't look like the best man will be showing up any time soon." The Admiral called from the front of the chapel. The Reverend, Sturgis and two of the three Ross men moved up toward the front few pews of the chapel. "Lieutenant Roberts, you'll assume the responsibilities of best man in Commander Rabb's absence. Commander Turner, you'll stand in Lieutenant Roberts place as the usher." The wedding party assumed their positions to run through the rehearsal. The General kind of staggered as he guided his daughter down the aisle but the trip was pretty smooth considering.

Nate and Steve tried to sit stalk still in the pew next to their mother but they couldn't resist acting just a little childish, lightly smacking each other and exchanging insults. Eventually, the bride reached the front of the church and was standing, facing the groom. Of course, almost perfectly on time according to the blurry numbers on Nate's watch, the back doors of the church swung wide open.

"I hope we're not late." Harm announced to the open church as he and Gunny came walking down the middle aisle. Everyone smiled as they saw the normally truant Naval aviator strut confidently down the aisle toward the bridal party at the front of the church.

"Rabb, you are so lucky you're not under my command any more." The Admiral chuckled as Harm came up and stood by his side. "Alright, sorry Lieutenant Roberts but it looks like we're back to our original places everyone."

"Our original place was here, wasn't it, Abbott?" Nate turned to his brother Steve.

"Sure was, Costello." Steve answered; both young men got a nasty look from their mother.

"Alright, Reverend the ball's in your court." The Admiral turned to the reverend who was watching with amusement the latest cast change. The rehearsal service went as planned. At the end, after bidding the soon to be bride and groom farewell, a small group gathered out on the steps in front of the chapel.

"Nice to see you again, you got good results. Not as good as the British, but good enough." Nate gave Harm a pat on the back. "Where's Webb? I thought for sure he would be here."

"He got shot." Harm stated simply. "Hit in the lower abdomen, they had to fly him into Landstuhl. He was bleeding pretty badly; he needed two units of blood on the way to the hospital, he crashed on us once." Harm watched Mac's facial expressions; her face seemed to freeze when he mentioned that Webb had crashed. He tried to lighten the mood a little. "How's my little jarhead?" He moved up the steps toward her. His choice of words probably wasn't the best since everyone around them: Bud, Harriet, Sturgis, Bobbi, Gunny, Tiner, Nate and Peach just stood there in a silent state of shock, unwilling to say anything. "I mean the dog; how's he doing?" Now everyone but Mac went from shocked to just confused.

Mac recovered from the shock of the initial question in her usual graceful manner. "Oh, yeah, the dog, he's uh doing fine, growing like a wild weed." She forced a chuckle. There was an awkward silence.

"I think we'll be going." Nate moved down the steps and flagged down his limo. "Can we give anyone else a ride back to the hotel in town?" Nate stood in the door to the car. Bud, Harriet and Tiner walked over and climbed into the car. "Anyone else? Alright, see everyone later tonight or tomorrow then." Nate sunk down into the car and closed the door.

Harm took a few hesitant steps toward Mac. "Any chance I might be able to go with you to the wedding tomorrow?" He asked.

"Sorry, Harm, I wasn't sure if you were going to be here today so I found someone else to go with." Mac fought to maintain a straight face as she screwed with him.

"Who?" He asked, looking slightly defeated.

"Keeter." Mac deadpanned, if Harm had looked at Sturgis who was threatening to erupt in laughter, he would have caught on to the gag but he didn't and instead, he just reacted.

"KEETER!" Harm practically shouted. "Tell me you're not dating Keeter."

"You're so easy." Mac openly laughed along with Sturgis and Bobbi. "And you might want to check your responses counsellor; someone might read into them more then you intend."

"So does that mean I can go with you tomorrow?" Harm chose to ignore the fact that he'd been had.

"Yes, Harm, you can go with me tomorrow. By the way, since you and Gunny are late in showing up, you two have to share a hotel room tonight." Mac, being the matron of honour, had set up the hotel arrangements.

"Not a problem, ma'am. The Commander and I have spent the better part of the last two months sleeping in close quarters with the other members of the team." Gunny nodded at Mac.

"You're really going to have to tell me what happened out there." Mac said to Harm with all the seriousness she could muster, showing in her eyes.

"We'll see." Harm answered as they all moved toward their cars in the parking lot.


	27. The Everlasting Present Part 2

Later that night, Harm was sitting in a patio chair by the pool in the hotel. The pool was open all night but that didn't mean that it was a necessarily wise idea to sit out there well into the wee hours on the morning. Still, there he sat, his head propped up on his hands as he looked out on the tranquil water. "You know, you have to touch it with something in order to get it to move right?" Nate walked up behind Harm and took a seat on the chair next to him.

"Hey, I would have bet that the suite that his hotel probably put you in would have had you sleeping like a rock. Or is your little Miss, the reason you're still awake?" Harm joked as he looked over at the man who had become a good friend over the last year.

"I haven't slept through the night since Desert Storm. That and I just had to have a conversation about birth control that I would rather forget." Nate chuckled as he ran a hand through his hair.

"What about you? What has you tied up in knots at two in the morning?" Nate motioned for the waiter at the bar.

"I'm going to a wedding with Mac tomorrow." Harm answered cryptically as the waiter took a drink order from Nate.

"I fail to see why that would cause a sleepless night. Having gone through the experience myself, it's not something that one should worry about and I think you of all people would enjoy it. Seeing as you couldn't be more in love with her if you had her name tattooed across your chest." Nate chuckled as he raised a glass of red wine to his lips. "You really ought to have a glass of this stuff, Harm. It's South African."

"Not this late at night. As for the wedding thing, I don't know, I guess I just see it as representative of everything that I'm missing. I mean Christ, Nate, I'm almost forty, I thought by now, I'd have a wife and kids and a house out in the suburbs somewhere. Instead, I'm still in the same apartment I've been in for years, I'm keeping at arm's length, the woman I want to hold close and my career seems to be the only thing working for me and that's only because both you and Chegwidden have given me considerable leeway in the last year." Harm exhaled heavily.

"You earned it, Harm. You know what's amazing, is how much you sound like I did after I got back form Indonesia with you guys. Granted, you're a few years older then I am but the basic gist of the message was still there." Nate chuckled along with Harm at the age comment. "Listen, none of it's really that hard. You don't like the apartment you live in? Get a better place. You want Mac, go out and get her but Harm you have to realize something, Mac's a Marine."

"I realize it, trust me, she's reminded me." Harm defended immediately.

"Yeah, you know she is. But you still pussyfoot around her like a scared little squid. You launch the little hints of what's coming from a safe distance, just like the Navy. Mac's a Marine, she responds to Marine-like actions. So you've got to break out a different playbook with this one. Storm the beach here, Rabb, look defeat and failure in the face. You're brother's going to the best Military Academy in the world to be a Marine so I know you have it in you somewhere, you've just got to drag it out kicking and screaming." Nate coached as he got up off the chair.

"It's not that easy." Harm started but Nate cut him off.

"Bullshit, it isn't! You think I don't know what you're going through? Right now, you're only looking at seven years of pent up sexual tension and friendship that you're risking, I was looking at nine years a few months ago. But I decided to dos something about it and that's what you have to do. Just get up off your ass and say enough is enough." Nat placed his glass down on the poolside table and got up from the chair. "As for me, I'm going to go upstairs, wake up my beautiful girlfriend and have a lot fun before I go back to sleep. You want to win the respect of this Marine, go to Mac's room and talk tonight for God's sake!" Nate jogged over to the elevator and climbed in.

Harm just sat there, in the chair for a few minutes just staring out at the water again. Some things in life were simple and no matter how willing people were to beat him over the head with the fact that his situation was more simple then he was making it, he still wasn't convinced. So, Harm went to be that night in his own room, alone, without having talked to Mac.

1534 ZULU

CATHEDRAL OF THE NAVY

ANNAPOLIS, MARYLAND

"I have never seen that many medical license plates in my life." Harm and the Admiral were talking at the back of the church.

"Yeah, I'm marrying into a weird family. Bev's father's side of the family is nothing but Marines but most of the people on her mother's side of the family are doctors. I don't understand it." The Admiral was surrounded by his best man, two ushers and his daughter Francesca at the back of the church.

"Just wait, the Hendley-Ross clan hasn't shown up yet." General Jack approached the group of men.

"Hendley-Ross clan, sir?" Harm asked slightly fearing the tone of voice that the General had used.

"One of my uncles was with the Army Air Corps near Manchester in World War Two. He fell in love with a local girl and stayed behind in England after the war. Their offspring have since become a rowdy group of Royal Marine soccer hooligans who can sing the club song for Manchester United after drinking a case of beer just to themselves. In spite of all this, Beverly finds them incredibly charming and invites them to every family function." General Jack gave the Admiral a pat on the back. "Have fun with this one, AJ."

"It can't be as bad as the Commandant insinuated, sir." Harm tried to reassure his old CO and friend.

"Yes, sir, I'm sure that General Ross was just trying to scare you." Bud stood in support of Harm's opinion.

"There is a bloody O Club somewhere on this campus right!" A rather obtuse Englishman could be heard coming through the door with bunch of his rowdy kin.

"Where's the bloke who's marrying our beloved Angle cousin, Beverly, I demand to meet the sod." Another one shouted.

"Papa, these are your new in-laws?" Francesca seemed slightly scared after viewing the entrance of the Hendley-Ross clan.

"With any luck, I'll only see them once a year." AJ answered, forcing a smile. On of the Hendley-Ross boys came staggering over toward Harm and Bud.

"Hey, Captain, you look like a pretty important man around these parts. Might you be able to tell me where it is that I'll find Admiral Chuggawagga, he's marrying my cousin you see?" The man put his hand on Harm's shoulder.

"I'm Admiral Chegwidden and who are you?" The Admiral extended his hand.

"Leftenant Colonel Jonathan Hendley-Ross, sir; proud officer of Her Majesty's Royal Marines!" Jonathan fixed a salute and tried to come to attention.

"Colonel, you are aware that it's not quite noon, right?" The Admiral ventured, having smelled the alcohol on his breath.

"Quite true sir, but as my old mom reminded us, it's afternoon back home so that makes everything perfectly smashing doesn't it?" Jonathan stood at ease.

"Colonel Hendley-Ross, sir, you'll be seated on the bride's side so if I could just show you to your seat, sir." Tiner led the Royal Marine through the chapel.

"I see you two met the Royal Marines." Nate came walking over dressed in his Marine Dress Uniform.

"Tell me that they're not all like that." Admiral Chegwidden winced.

"Like Jonathan? No, he's the spokesman for the group, he's the most tolerable of any of them. By the way, AJ, my dad wanted me to be sure, you do want Marines in the arch, and you're okay with that?" Nate had one hand resting on the handle of the Mameluke sword that came with the Marine dress uniform.

"Your sister comes from a proud Marine family; I think it's fair that that fact be represented in some way." Chegwidden shook Nate's hand.

"It's a pity the Gunny's enlisted, sir, we would've loved to include him." Nate fixed a salute as a sign of respect for his soon to be brother in law before heading off to collect the Marines for the arch.

"I'd say you're marrying into the Marine Corps more then Reverend Ross is marrying into the Navy, sir." Harm joked.

"Gee, what tipped you off, Rabb? Could it be the fact that it takes five tables to hold all the white Marine Corps dress covers? Or the fact that the crew cut seems to be the in style haircut at this wedding? I knew that the Ross family was a Marine Corps institution, I didn't think that they took it this seriously." The Admiral watched as the people began to settle down.

"Well sir, look at it this way, you have some of the top Marine brass at your wedding so you'll have some real pull at the Pentagon from now on. It should also make investigations easier." Harm headed off to the back to take his place. He ran into Mac outside the bridal suite. "Remind me why you're the maid of honour, again."

"I believe the bride's thinking was that it was my genius idea to introduce them, so I should stand for her. Makes sense when you think about it." Mac smiled lightly.

"Marine logic." Harm muttered under his breath.

"There seems to be a lot of that in this chapel today, I'd avoid negative jabs at the Corps today if I were you, you might have an entire MEU come down on you." Mac took her place with the bridesmaids at the back of the church. Harm, Bud and Tiner stood at the back with the bridesmaids, ready to lead them down the aisle.

The service was a standard Presbyterian service. Bev looked radiant in her dress; the vows were beautiful and poetic in nature, reflectively their common love of literature. Harm had a difficult time tearing his eyes off of Mac. Sturgis observed and whispered to Nate who chuckled. Nate had been tasked with keeping the Hendley-Ross clan under control, which he did with a very Marine Corps proficiency. When the time came to kiss the bride, Jonathan Hendley-Ross stood to hoot and holler but Nate dealt him a swift blow to the stomach with his elbow, so Jonathan was relegated to sitting and clapping.

When the service was concluded, the church emptied slowly and Harm gathered the eight officers, four Marines and four Navy to take part in the procession for the arch. Nate had gathered up three of his relatives to fill in the Marine side of the arch. General Jack had insisted upon being a part of the procession despite his son's insistence that it really wasn't necessary. The General's exact words were "And Nathan, just how many times do you think I'll be able to raise a sword at my new son-in-law?" it was stereotypical father thinking when he thought of it. The other two Marines were two of Bev and Nate's cousins, both were bird Colonels. Sturgis, Bud, Harm and one of the Admiral's friends from his destroyer days were proudly representing the Navy.

"Officers, draw swords." Harm ordered and eight hands went down to the swords that were fixed to the belts of their dress uniforms. "Officers, arch swords!" Harm drew his sword and it met the General's who was standing across from him. When all the swords had met and formed the arch it was time for Harm to give the final command. "Blades into the wind." The blades of the eight swords turned to the wind. "Presenting for the first time, Admiral and Missus AJ Chegwidden."

The Admiral led his bride into the arch unaware of the gauntlet that the Marines had prepared for him. As he walked past the first Marine, the Admiral was met by a sword across the fanny and a greeting of "Semper Fi!" As he walked past the second Marine, the Admiral was given a second swat across the butt followed by an "Oorah!" The third Marine was Nate who waited until the Admiral almost got to General Jack's sword before swatting him across the butt with his sword and chanting "Welcome to the Corps!" When the couple past through the last set of arched swords, Bev was given the customary tap on the fanny with a sword and "Go Navy!" from Harm. General Jack swatted his new son-in-law across the butt with his sword then uttered "Just remember that little man to man talk we had, AJ."

After the arch, the party was moved across campus to the Officer's Club where a few exceptions to decorum and regulation were made to allow the enlisted guests at the wedding into the O Club. The entire guest list had to suffer through Harm's long agonizing speech which contained more then a few jokes that flopped but it was well received in any case. After Dinner the party became more open and less formal. The bride and groom shared their first dance to Tony Bennett's _It Had to Be You_ and after that, the DJ stuck to a pretty standard playlist.

Harm walked over to a pleasant sight. Clayton Webb had made the party after all. He was bandaged up pretty tight and he looked like hell wrapped in Armani but he was there nonetheless. "I wouldn't have thought that the Admiral liked you enough to invite you to his wedding, Webb." Harm joked as he walked over to where Webb was talking with Gunny and Nate.

"I think Admiral Chegwidden and I have a healthy respect for each other, Rabb." Webb answered with his stiff upper lip tone.

"Didn't he break your nose once, Webb?" Harm reminded as he joined the group.

"Rabb, there's a rule to drinking with this group; you have to have to be drinking scotch, so put down the champagne and drink like a man." Webb motioned to have a member of the catering staff bring over a scotch for Harm.

"So, have you guys officially dubbed yourselves the cool kids of the wedding or something?" Harm joked as he took a drink from the glass.

"No, we were discussing your success in Pakistan. I was pointing out to Webb that if he perhaps hadn't taken so damn long with relaying intelligence, your team would have gotten out of there two weeks earlier." Nate perked his eyebrows with curiosity as he took a drink himself.

"Relaying intelligence, Webb?" Harm asked.

"Nothing that was concrete so I didn't put any stock in it." Webb defended.

"No matter. Your team will be heading out next week for the second target without you, Harm." Nate initiated the conversation.

"Why without me? I thought I was a part of this." Harm's ire rose, the takedown of Ziyda wasn't perhaps the most exciting but it was something to break up the monotony that had become his office at the Pentagon.

"Someone needs to fill in for Admiral Chegwidden while he's on his honeymoon. For the next two weeks, you're the JAG. Have fun with that." Nate gave him a congratulatory pat on the shoulder.

"Who's going in my place? You aren't just going to send in a Marine, spook and SEAL without a supervisor are you?" Harm joked, catching a nasty scowl from both Gunny and Webb who believed that they had done more then their fair share on the last outing.

"I'm attaching Keeter to the team. His experience in doing Black Ops for the Company more then qualifies him. The President, Joint Chiefs and Director of Central Intelligence more then agree with me." Nate placed his scotch glass on the passing tray of a nearby member of the catering staff.

"Keeter and Bax? You can't throw both of them at the enemy at the same time. I'm sure that violates some article of a Hague or Geneva convention somewhere." Harm joked. "Are you allowed to tell me where they're headed next? I mean I have to have the security clearance after going on the last trip."

"You do have the clearance to know, you just don't have the need." Webb replied in an effort to safeguard the operation.

"Yes he does, Webb because if you nearly get the team killed, he's going to be on the team that I send in to rescue your sorry ass." Nate replied with a tone that was meant to firmly placate the cocky secret agent. "They're going to Algiers; it seems recruitment in Northern Africa has been down since that little exhibition with Libya at the UN earlier this year."

"Explains why Mourari would be there, that's what he does isn't it?" Harm asked as he finished off his scotch.

"It's nice to know that someone reads those CIA profiles that they hand out. Yeah, well getting Mourari would be a real feather in our cap and collecting him and Ziyda in such a close space of time would really throw the enemy's whole network into a frenzy. Any slip ups they go through could give us intelligence that could lead us to even bigger fish in the food chain." Nate stuck both his hands in his pockets.

"If you sirs will excuse me, I think I've had about all the shop talk I can take for one day. This is a wedding and there are a few very beautiful members of the catering staff who look like they could use a little attention." Gunny started to head across the hall.

"Give'em hell, Marine." Nate called after him.

"If you gentlemen would excuse me, I believe our good Gunnery Sergeant could use a wingman." Webb pursed his lips as he followed Gunny's patch across the O Club.

"This is a wedding, you should go hook up with someone." Nate coached Harm. "I hear the Maid of Honour's not seeing anyone at the moment."

"Didn't you just tell me that I would technically be her commanding officer as of Monday morning?" Harm asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well that's the beauty of it, Harm. It's only Saturday." Nate smiled and chuckled in a semblance of wisdom.

"You wouldn't be condoning or even encouraging fraternization, would you Mr. Secretary?" Harm's barrister side was coming through.

"Harm, off the record, I always personally thought that fraternization was the most moronic and outdated regulation in the UCMJ and I would strike down the regulation in a minute if I had the authority to do so. On the record, I can't condone the behaviour, but if something were to transpire tonight and I were to catch wind of it tomorrow, I could speak with the President and have him tailor certain orders to fit the situation." Nate tilted his head to the side to insinuate his point.

"I don't know where you get some of your ideas." Harm commented before heading off to talk to Mac.

"What did you say to him?" Sturgis asked Nate as he witnessed the scene that had transpired.

"I just suggested that he and Mac turn up the heat on the stove tonight." Nate chuckled.

"You Marines and your weird analogies." Sturgis rolled his eyes before going over to find Bobbi. Nate stood over against the wall for a few seconds until the sound of a familiar pair of high heels came walking over to his side.

"Hey, I know you; you woke up in my bed this morning and it feels like I haven't seen you since." Peach attached herself to his arm.

"God, I missed you, baby. This has been the longest morning of my life." Nate kissed her quickly on the lips.

"I don't know, you and your Marine relatives looked like you were having a lot of fun during the arch outside of the church." Peach curled into his chest.

"I guess." He heard her sigh. "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing, it's silly, it's just you know how I get at weddings." She wrapped her arms around his ribcage. He bent his head down to kiss her hair.

"Soon, I promise." He whispered into her ear and that brought a smile to her face. At that moment, Nate heard the gentle strains of the introduction to Johnny Mathis' _Chances Are_ begin to echo through the O Club. "Come on, Hon, let's go dance." Peach and Nate walked out on to the floor.

Across the O Club, Mac and Harm watched the scene with a quiet but very interested mean of observation. "Can you believe that they're like that after nine years of just being about as close as two people can get on this planet?" Mac asked.

"He's a lucky man." Harm had moved away from the alcohol and was now on to just straight drinks of Coke from the bar.

"It's like some kind of fairytale." Mac let out a self-deprecating laugh. "I guess it sounds a little silly for a Marine to admit that she still looks at things like that."

"Nothing about you is silly, Sarah." Harm's voice had an injected note of tenderness.

"Every once in a while, I catch you being nice." Mac smiled.

"I guess I'll have to be nice to you a little more often, you deserve it." Harm stepped closer to her.

"What has gotten into you?" Mac was sceptical of this new turn that his mood had taken. "You know, it's customary to dance with a lady if you're going to sweet talk her."

"I never was much of a dancer." Harm laughed.

"Pardon me, mademoiselle, but as far as I've noticed, you are the most gorgeous bird in the whole place, care for a spin on the dance floor, love?" Jonathan Hendley-Ross actually seemed to have sobered up despite the O Club having a very open bar. By now he actually looked like the picture of a Royal Marine. Either that, or someone had slipped something very powerful in Harm's drink.

"I'm sorry, Colonel, my feet are feeling rather sore, you know how heels can be." Mac politely brushed him off.

"Not in the mood for British, Mac?" Harm asked coyly and Mac tossed him a slightly annoyed look.

"After the whole thing with Mic, I can't stand the Aussie bastardization of the British accent and I don't carry any tolerance for the original either." Mac joked, she looked back over at Nate and Peach on the dance floor and mused to herself under her breath. "Nine years."

Harm heard her words and thought to himself for a second before composing a satisfactory response to himself in his head. "No, Sarah, that's not how long we're going to wait." His inner voice repeated the mantra until it was all he could think about.


	28. A Theatre of Simultaneous Possibilities

"Honey, I'm home!" Nate called as he entered the condo.

"You really need to come up with an original sentiment for when you come home." Peach came walking down the staircase from upstairs toward her boyfriend. "I don't know what to do with my days any more." She smiled as she wrapped him up in a big hug.

"Idle hands are the devil's plaything, my dear." Nate joked as he kissed her on the end of her nose.

"I did figure out one thing I can do." Peach toyed, backing out of the embrace and grabbing four tickets from the coffee table. She held up the tickets in front of her boyfriends face. "Tickets for Friday's premiere of the Washington Theatre Company's production of 'Kiss Me, Kate'."

"Why are there four?" Nate asked as he moved over to the couch.

"Well, you came up with this big plan to give Harm and Mac a push in the right direction, right?" Peach asked.

"Not just me, there was also Lieutenant Sims, Commander Turner and Bev but yes, I suppose I was one of the main proponents of the plan." Nate tossed himself down on the couch and picked up the remote for the TV.

"Okay, enough with the big words for a minute. You don't have to try to impress me with your intelligence remember? I'm already sleeping with you." Peach curled up on the couch next to him.

"Honey, no matter how long we're together, I always want you to feel like you're special enough to need to be impressed…if that makes any sense." Nate wrapped an arm around her.

"You're sweet." She kissed his cheek. "Anyway, I figured that we could double date with them to Kiss Me, Kate."

"That might be a little too much for two people who aren't dating yet. Maybe we should take another couple this time." Nate suggested.

"Who else would we possibly take?" Peach asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

"How about Bobbi and Commander Turner?" Nate asked as he walked into the kitchen to start on dinner.

"Oh no, if I put you and Senator Latham in the same room, all you two will do is talk about politics all night and you'll bore the hell out of anyone else around you." Peach replied.

"What about your sister and Doctor Gary?" Nate shouted from the kitchen.

"My sister is an insufferable nag and you think that Gary's gay; how would that make for an enjoyable evening?" Peach replied.

"You know, you're not this tough to please in other areas." Nate commented as he walked through the living room to take the steaks out to the barbecue on the patio.

"Oh yes I am, you're just much more _persuasive_ in other areas." Peach remarked coyly.

"Fine, what about Mike and Becky?" Nate asked through the open patio door.

"Becky's more of a nag then my sister and Mike would start snoring fifteen minutes into the play. Try again, stud." Peach sauntered over to the open patio door.

"How about Stephen and Lily?" Nate was now getting near the end of his list of names.

"Lily won't be able to find a babysitter and musicals aren't exactly your brother's cup of tea." Peach smiled as she tugged on the sash that held her robe closed.

"I guess we have to go with Harm and Mac but if this kicks up a shitstorm, let it be on your-" Nate turned to see his Nicole standing there in the same peach coloured negligee that she had worn that night in Manila. "So, I guess you want to skip dinner?"

1607 ZULU

JAG HEADQUARTERS

FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

"You know, if you're going to be running this place, you could at least make some effort to be on time." Mac joked as she stood in the doorway to the Admiral's office. Harm was the only one other then the Admiral that could sit behind that desk and not look smaller for having done so.

"Mac, I'm running this place, when I come in _is_ 'on time'." Harm joked with a quick flyboy grin. "So how did that Article 32 in front of Colonel Blakeley go?"

"As well as can be expected, there are days on this job that I really wish we could use criminal stupidity as a defence." Mac shook her head. "Blakeley was easier on the kid since he was a Marine, I think. Morris or Sebring would have strung the kid up by his toes."

"You do what you can, Mac. Sturgis had all the evidence, all you could do was try and get a recommendation for mitigation on sentencing. Sounds like you did, I'm sorry I had to give you that one, Mac but that kid needed the best in order to get anything out of the situation, and you're the best." Harm scratched his signature across another form.

"So, how do you like having Coates as your yeoman now that Tiner's gone off to OCS?" Mac asked.

"The girl definitely has a style all her own. I can't believe that she saved Bud's life the way she did, it makes it hard to believe that she's the same girl that she was last Christmas when I brought her by your apartment." Harm mused as he turned in his chair to face the TV.

"Bud's being awarded the Purple Heart and there's talk about awarding Coates a meritorious service medal for her actions." Mac added just in passing.

"With all the shrapnel that they pulled out of Bud's leg, I'm surprised he still retained the use of it." Harm grimaced noticeably.

"Fifteen percent nerve and muscle damage is a big price to pay for being a Navy lawyer, Harm. At least he's put in his sea duty and a Purple Heart will look good on his record the next time he comes up for promotion." Mac twiddled her thumbs idly. "Jarhead's doing good."

"Is he? I wanted to come by and see the little guy but with everything here, you know, I guess I just couldn't find the time." Harm chuckled nervously. "I haven't had time for a whole lot more then just work since I've been sitting in this chair, I have a whole new respect for Chegwidden."

"What's so new about it, Harm? You've sat there before." Mac pointed out.

"Yeah, but that was during a particularly light week." Harm retorted as he dropped his head into his hands.

"As I recall, that week you had to receive a rather harsh tongue lashing from the SECNAV because I maligned the reputation of a Marine Major General." Mac smiled sweetly at the thought of Harm sticking up for her.

"Yeah well, the Major General had it coming and so did Nelson, but I wouldn't have told either of them to their faces at the time, it would be nice to make Admiral after all." Harm smiled as he watched Mac get up form her chair.

"Sir, there's someone from the State Department out here to see you." Coates stood in the doorway to the Admiral's office.

"Send the Secretary in, Jen." Harm chuckled, he didn't think Nate to be the type to ask permission, he was more the Marine who just charged in.

"Now, why do you assume it's always Nate, I might want to visit you, too." Peach came walking across the office and hugged Harm. "After all, it's not every man who would go through hours of torture for a woman that he barely knows."

"Jen said that my visitor was with State, I thought you had to resign after you started dating Nate." Harm said as he hugged her.

"Yeah, but I realize that I influence more policy by dating the Secretary then I ever did sitting behind a desk." Peach laughed lightly. "Besides, if I had said anything else, you would have guessed who it was." Peach sat down in a chair next to Mac.

"Alright, what brings you by? Tell me that Nate isn't planning to abduct any more of my staff. I already had to send Singer out as JAG on the Seahawk, which I was more then willing to do anyway. I just sent Sturgis and Manetti out on an investigation and I've got Mac and Bud booked up in court this week. I don't think I can spare anyone." Harm tossed his pen on to a stack of papers on his desk.

"No, Harm, Nate did not send me here to abduct JAG personnel and with Clayton Webb on assignment, your personnel should be safe from such behaviour for a while." Peach paused for a second. "Nope, I came by to drop off these." She placed the tickets on the desk in front of Harm.

"Theatre tickets?" He picked up the two tickets and furrowed his brow.

"Not just any theatre tickets, the Washington Theatre Company's big Friday premiere for 'Kiss Me, Kate'." Peach settled in the chair.

"Really? That premiere's going to be huge, it's all the society page has been talking about for weeks." Mac added, jumping into the conversation.

"Since when do you read the society page, Mac?" Harm asked, the curiosity playing seriously on his face.

"I was bored alright!" Mac shot at him with a particularly fierce Marine glare.

"Anyway, I was able to wrangle a private balcony for four." Peach started and Harm cut her off playfully.

"Amazing what name-dropping will do for theatre reservations." He observed quickly.

"Exactly. Anyway, Nate and I are going and we figured that you could use the other pair of tickets. You were the only guy we could think of that probably wouldn't be bored to death by the theatre." She laughed as she finished her sentiment.

"Thanks for the tickets, and I'll see you guys Friday?" Harm asked as he saw her rise from her chair. The two of them shook hands before Peach headed out of the office. Mac eyed the tickets that Harm held in his hand. Harm noticed Mac's fixed gaze on the two stiff pieces of paper.

"How badly do you want to go to that Premiere, Mac." Harm asked while taunting her by moving the tickets form side to side.

"Well I read the early reviews and they were pretty good, I guess I wouldn't mind seeing it. But I'm sure that you've already got someone in mind to go with you." Mac shook her head and tried to think of anything but the tickets in Harm's hand.

"I suppose I could take you, Marine, if you would want to go with me." He smiled wickedly.

"You wouldn't be asking a subordinate officer under your command on a date would you, Captain?" Mac teased coyly.

"Just a friendly night out, Colonel." Harm reassured her. The two of them sighed, yeah, just another friendly night out.

2349 ZULU

MADISON THEATRE

WASHINGTON, DC

"I hate the press!" Peach exclaimed as they made their way into the balcony.

"Yes, dear, I know." Nate chuckled a little at his girlfriend's flustered mood.

"What's so damn funny?" She turned to face Nate who just froze in his tracks. "Well?" She began to tap her foot. She loved making him sweat in situations like this.

"It's just that you looked so damn cute when you got all flustered because of those shutterbugs. Honey, I don't like it any more then you do, but for some reason, who I date is apparently newsworthy to some people. But I don't understand why it's important to them how long we've been dating." Nate took his seat and Peach sat next to him.

"You're such a hassle." Peach joked as she lightly stroked his arm. "You're lucky that you're worth it." She cuddled against his shoulder.

"See, Mac; I told you that it wouldn't be five minutes in the theatre and the two of them would be all over each other." Harm joked in a louder then necessary voice.

"Honey, there's a reason that the Marines hate the Navy and Harm's it." Nate addressed Peach but his voice was loud enough to indicate that the words were meant for Harm. Nate got up out of his chair and shook Harm's hand. "What's it like being JAG?"

"I'm eager to get back to the Pentagon." Harm answered quickly. "I now know why the Admiral seems to enjoy chewing me out, it's the only thing that can break up the endless monotonous moments of that job."

"Well that and you shot up a courtroom ceiling." Mac added. She was certainly eye-catching tonight. With all her court dates this week, she hadn't had the chance to go out shopping for a new dress and besides the salary of a Marine Lieutenant Colonel wasn't exactly conducive to that kind of behaviour. So she had to use one of the dresses that she had in her closet from a previous night out. She was dressed in that great blue dress from the Sudanese Embassy party a few years back. After all, Harm had suggested that night that they go out more often.

Pleasantries were exchanged and the group of four sat down to watch the play. "You know this is the first time that this play has been performed in Washington since Cole Porter died?" Mac whispered to Harm as the curtain went up.

"Really? Where'd you hear that?" Harm asked.

"I don't know, some magazine I read through while standing in line at Starbucks this week." Mac answered, when the first lines were delivered on stage all talking ceased for a period. They had peacefully sat through 'Another Op'nin', Another Show', 'Why Can't You Behave?' and 'Wunderbar'. Nate felt a vibration in his breast pocket just as the introduction to 'So In Love' began to play. He politely excused himself and went out into the lobby to answer his phone.

"I love this song." Mac whispered to Harm as the notes and words of 'So In Love' began to echo through the theatre.

"I had no idea that you had seen this show before." Harm replied, trying to keep his eyes on the stage so that they didn't wander over Mac's body as they had done so many times earlier in the evening.

"I saw the movie once when I was a little girl, I had this song stuck in my head for weeks." She replied, Mac wasn't hiding it, she decided to let her eyes trace their patterns over her partner's handsome features. Harm could feel her eyes on him, the air was suddenly heavy and time seemed to slow ever so slightly as their eyes locked. Mac had taken on the same dreamy look that she had worn one night long ago on a Norfolk pier. Her reason had left her as the faint strains of Cole Porter lightly decorated the background.

Harm's mind was still running with the same kind of fighter pilot control that had plagued him for years. He was still her CO until Monday no matter what he felt or how strong he felt it, he couldn't……he just couldn't. Could he back away again without shutting the door behind him? He needed that infamous control for just a little while longer. "You look absolutely gorgeous tonight, Sarah."

"Thank you." Mac bowed her head in resignation, it seemed like that was all she was going to get out of Harmon Rabb tonight.

Out in the lobby, Nate had his cell pressed to his ear as he paced the dark red carpet. "This had better be important." Nate threatened in a gruff tone.

"Yeah, bossman, we got a lot of traffic coming in over the wires tonight." Spinner sounded panicked as he talk to his boss.

"We always have a lot of traffic on the wires, Spinner. That tells us that they're working." Nate remarked sarcastically.

"No, boss, this is a lot of traffic and it's something that our code-crackers haven't been able to decipher." Spinner's voice was gaining a nasal quality.

"Arctic, Pacific, Gulf or Atlantic?" Nate asked, his interest peaked by Spinner's last admission.

"Can't tell, chief." Spinner answered.

"Fine, Spinner, get on the horn to Naval Intelligence, they've got some computer whiz kids over there that should be able to track the signal to its original relay station. When they do that, have them crack the code and only call me when you've done all this. Understand?" Before Spinner could answer, Nate flipped the phone closed and headed back up to the balcony where he saw his lovely girlfriend still rapt in the plot of the play.

"Any close calls back there?" Nate asked in Hebrew so that neither Harm nor Mac could understand what he was saying.

"Do I look like I have eyes in the back of my head?" Peach asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No, but I'm assuming that you have a reason for having that compact in your hand." Nate tossed her a crooked smile.

"I forgot, you've got that whole Sherlock Holmes, body language thing." Peach whispered in his ear. "There was one near-kiss moment but nothing big. Someone's got to light a fire under that boy."

"I agree, my dear." Nate took her hand in his and they continued watching the play. There were a few more musical numbers before the intermission came and everyone emptied out of their chairs and out into the lobby for a few minutes. Nate and Harm led the two girls out into the lobby and in the stereotypical female way, the two of them went off to 'powder their noses'. Nate and Harm leaned on the bar. "So, how's your date going?" Nate asked as if in passing.

"It's not a date." Harm shot back as if he were awaiting the question.

"Alright, it's time for me to analyze." Nate cracked his knuckles and jerked his head to one side to loosen up his neck. "First off, you two are dressed to the teeth. You're wearing a nicely tailored suit rather then your uniform or something you just happened to find in your closet."

"How could you…" Harm started to question but Nate raised a hand to silence him.

"The stitch marks on the cuff of the pants are recent which tells me that you either just had the suit tailored or you just bought it; in either case the steps were taken in preparation for tonight. Secondly, you didn't pick Mac up and come right here, that's evident from the recent stain on your lapel." Nate extended a finger and wiped the stain. He caught a whiff of the substance. "Alfredo sauce means you went to an Italian restaurant and it was probably that three star one about a block from here since neither of you would want to be late for the play. I'm assuming you paid for the meal?" Harm nodded at his friend's question. "Also, Mac's dress shows signs of recent alteration which means that she was preparing for tonight well in advance as well. My better half and I have talked, we both think it's a date, Harm. And the evidence agrees with us."

"Didn't your mother ever tell you that it was impolite to carry on conversation in Hebrew in front of people who can't speak the language?" Harm tried to shift off the topic.

"Nice transition to topic change." Nate wasn't biting. "Harm you're a lawyer and from what I've heard and read, a damn good one, evaluate the evidence, is this a date or what?"

"No, it's not a date, it's just two people who are close sharing an evening together." Harm replied.

"I may be wrong, but isn't that pretty much a word for word description of the word 'date'?" Nate challenged. "Harm, face it, the hard part's over, she's already out with you. Now you've just got to do right by the Navy and the Marine Corps and make a move on her for Christ's sake. A woman like that isn't going to wait for eternity." Nate had carefully selected the words in that sentence.

"I keep forgetting that Mac told you about Sydney." Harm rolled his eyes. Nate chuckled at Harm's predicament. "This isn't a date."

"Riiight." Nate was openly sarcastic as he turned toward the bartender. "Vodka martini, please."

"Nate, would you mind not, I mean no vodka." Harm asked like he was intervening on the behalf of Nate's liver but Nate knew why Harm was asking him to stay away from the vodka. Nate cancelled the drink order. He watched as Harm walked over to greet the girls as they came back from the bathroom.

"Not a date, my ass." Nate huffed as he smiled and walked back over to Peach. The intermission lights rang to signal that everyone should move back into their seats for the second half of the show.

The four of them sat there watching the remainder of the play. Nate was hoping that his phone wouldn't vibrate again until the play was over and if he was really lucky, it wouldn't be until the car ride home. Most of the second half came through without a hitch onstage or off but halfway through 'Brush Up Your Shakespeare' Nate felt that harried vibration in his breast pocket again. He leaned over to Peach. "Any chance someone put in a pacemaker while I was asleep?"

"Afraid not, honey." Peach replied softly.

"That's what I was afraid of." Nate replied with a sarcastic smile. He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and flipped the phone open to see a text message displayed on the screen. Only two words were written. _BOSS! URGENT!_ Nate typed in a reply message to calm Spinner and get him to explain himself. Spinner's reply came only seconds later and it certainly was cause for alarm. _BOSS, NORTH KOREA ENRICHED URANIUM!_ Nate practically sprang out of his seat after reading the message. He turned around and grabbed Harm by the sleeve. "We need to go."

"Not right now." Harm glanced passingly at Mac to get his point across. Nate pushed Spinner's latest text message into Harm's face. Harm read it quickly before nodding at Nate. Nate walked over and kissed Peach on the cheek.

"I'll be in late tonight, honey. I love you so much." He pressed his lips to her cheek again. "But they really, really need me right now."

"I know." She whispered in his ear. "I know you tried to put this off earlier but you're a Marine and you'll always answer when duty calls."

"No more PS2 commercials for you." Nate replied with a quick laugh. One row back, Harm was trying to explain to Mac the reason for his sudden departure.

"Mac, I have to go, I really wish I could tell you but I really can't you're just going to have to trust me on this one." He stopped for a second. "This isn't how I wanted the evening to end." He placed a light kiss where at the corner of her lips where they met her cheek. "Goodnight, Sarah." Just then Nate tapped him on the shoulder and the two of them went sprinting out into the lobby and out to the car.

"Not a date, my ass." Nate remarked as they climbed into the car.

"Don't you start." Harm warned.

"Where to, sir?" Burke asked from the front seat.

"White House, Burke. And double time it if you wouldn't mind." Nate indicated and the driver rolled up the dividing glass.

Back in the theatre, the play ended and Peach and Mac got up from their seats. "Well, it's Friday night; the boys are off in their latest re-enactment of a Tom Clancy novel, what say we head back to the condo, order some pizza and watch some chick-flicks?" Peach elbowed Mac in the arm playfully.

"You're on, sounds like a great girls night." Mac chuckled as they headed out into the parking lot. Harm had given her the keys to his Vette as he rushed out of the theatre so that she would have a way home. "So, what do you think the guys are up to?"

"Must be pretty important. I haven't seen run that fast since back in '94 when Nate was trying out his Arabic on the Saudi ambassador and he accidentally made a rather innocent yet offensive remark about the Ambassador's wife's nose." Peach joked as the two women got into the car.

0245 ZULU

THE WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM

WASHINGTON, DC

Nate and Harm were guided down the corridors by Marine escort. They ran into the SECDEF and National Security Advisor, both of whom were taking the same route to the high tech room. "Well don't you two look like you just came from the prom." The SECDEF taunted lightly.

"I'm surprised you were able to pull your head out of your ass long enough to come up with something that clever, Ramsey." Nate volleyed a shot right back. The group that was now numbering four walked through the doors into the situation room. The Joint Chiefs of Staff, the Director of Central Intelligence, the Vice President, Spinner and the President were already there waiting for them.

"Alright, now that everyone is here, can someone who is supposed to know this, tell me why we didn't know that a rogue dictator was this close to obtaining weapons-grade uranium?" President Andrew Russell never was one to mince words.

"Simply put, sir, we don't know what happened. There must have been a break down somewhere between our agent in Pyongyang and his chief of station in Seoul. That's the only explanation." The Director of the CIA offered his explanation.

"I hate to interrupt, but some of us weren't given a full briefing on what the situation is, so if you wouldn't mind updating Captain Rabb and I so that we can assess just how badly the CIA fucked this one up." Nate tossed an annoyed glare at the Director.

"See, I knew there was a reason you were here. Someone other then me has to be able to cut through the bullshit." President Russell smiled at his Secretary of State. "Mr. Knox, if you would update the Secretary and the Captain." Spinner stepped forward.

"Well, all night we were getting wire traffic coming from the pacific, we tried everything to crack the code and find out what the message was. Naval Intelligence was able to track the transmission to a station in Pyongyang that was relaying the message to North Korean ships that were on exercise in the Sea of Japan. The message we were finally able to decipher was one that was being relayed to a fast-attack sub." The gravity of what Spinner was saying hit everyone in the room pretty hard. "They were using the Navajo code that we used in the Second World War. Kind of ironic when you think about it."

"You'll excuse us for not laughing." The Vice President jumped in.

"Lay off the kid, George. He knows what he's doing." The President jumped in to defend Spinner. "Nathan, what are our options?"

"Well, if we can confirm our intelligence. The smartest thing would be to take it to the Security Council. North Korea isn't a member but China is and they'll be our biggest obstacle. The Russians won't let North Korea have nukes and they'll move to get them the hell out of there. The British would certainly support such a strong solution and the French will as well provided that they didn't sell the North Koreans the equipment to enrich the uranium and even if they did, they might support disarming North Korea." Nate had his hands in his pockets. "Once again the problem becomes China."

"So, does wonderboy have a solution for how we get China on board with a plan to get rid of North Korean nuclear potential?" The Vice President taunted.

"I prefer Captain America, George. There are only two things the Chinese understand on the international stage, force and coercion. Using force against China would be suicide but I think we might be able to coerce them on this one. Granted we're going to have to swallow every last ounce of humanity left in us."

"What are you thinking of Nate? I mean, I can tell from the way you winced that it's bad, but how bad are we talking here?" The President prodded.

"Sir, currently, our foreign aid to China amasses in excess of twenty billion dollars. Meaning that we carry most of the foreign aid to that country. We have to threaten to cut it, and I mean really threaten them. They can't think we're screwing with them because they'll try and call our bluff, they have to honestly think that we'll cut it. We won't of course, that's the beauty of it. A move like this would be in China's best interest to keep quiet too." Nate had to sit down, he couldn't believe what he had just said.

"What makes you say that?" The Director of the CIA asked.

"Simple, the one thing Beijing fears more then anything else is a repeat of Tiananmen Square. If it got to the Chinese people that Beijing was willing to risk their welfare to protect it's position in North Korea, it might create the basis for another revolution." Nate answered.

"Alright, we've got our position for the UN. Captain Rabb, what are our options for removal of the uranium program?" The President shifted his attention to Harm.

"Well, ideally the UN would force North Korea to open up and they would send in UN technicians to dismantle the program. However, if my own experience is anything to go by things rarely run so smoothly at the UN. Sir, the next best option for us would be to allow the CIA to sabotage the site by blowing it up. The problems there arise with the fact that any caught CIA agent would be tortured and killed for espionage and that a blast that size in an area with weapons-grade uranium would create a nuclear crater, likely the size of Nagasaki. So, if it's a rural area, it would kill thousands of people but it would look like the North Koreans were using an unstable reactor and it just blew up in their faces. If worse comes to worse, sir, we can always fallback on air strikes. They're an act of war but it would give us reason to incite revolt and get the people to rise up against Pyongyang." Harm concluded.

"Assuming that their will isn't completely crushed." The CNO chimed in.

"Alright we've got our outright plan and under the SALT and START treaties we can justify them using international law." Harm added.

"Okay, if we know what we're doing, every can go grab some sleep and we'll set to it tomorrow." The President dismissed the sit room and Harm and Nate headed out toward the waiting limo.

0406 ZULU

NATE'S CONDO

FOGGY BOTTOM, DC

Nate walked into the condo, having dropped Harm off at his apartment before heading home. He loosened his tie before heading over to the stairs that led to the second floor. He came upon the most heart-warming scene in the living room. Mac and Peach asleep with the TV on and playing old reruns of 'Moonstruck'. He walked over and kissed Peach on the forehead. She stirred lightly and he eyelids flashed open. "Hey, baby." She stated drowsily, she saw the question in his eyes as he surveyed the living room. "Girls night." She answered to the silent question.

"Come on, let's get you upstairs." He lifted her off the couch and cradled her in his arms.

"I was fine on the couch." She whispered in his ear.

"I know, but I'm not fine without you." Nate replied and she lightly kissed his lips.

"I love you so much." She murmured into his neck.

"I love you, too. So, what did you get out of Mac?" Nate asked out of curiosity.

"It wasn't a date." She replied as Nate let her down on their bed. The two lovers looked at each other and voiced a similar thought. "Not a date, my ass."


	29. And the Travellers Walked Through Byways

"Alright folks, let's make this quick, I have to head up to Bensonhurst later to prevent a district court from throwing a misguided nineteen year-old moron in prison." Nate clapped his hands together as he started off the meeting with the team.

"You're the Secretary of State, why are you taking an interest in a case of some teenager up in New York?" Harm raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

"It's not important. In any case, I want to commend Commander Baxter, Gunny Galindez, Captain Keeter and yes, even, Agent Webb on their apprehension of Hassan Mourari, even if it did devolve into a shootout in the streets of Algiers. At least I didn't see any of you on ZNN." Nate gave Gunny a pat on the shoulder.

"What's our last target, boss?" Bax nodded at Nate from across the table.

"Gentlemen, I have good news. You won't be leaving the hemisphere for this one and you're going after Sadik Fahd. Fahd is roughly comparable to a very good freelancing agent for Al Qaeda. He can operate independent of the network, something that's not out of the ordinary for someone whose personal background as an Iranian Shia would put him in some minor ideological conflicts with the senior Al Qaeda leadership. They tolerate him however, because he's incredibly effective. He's also doing some trading in drugs and diamonds down in Panama City." Nate produced the latest intelligence reports. Have fun down in Panama, boys. Oh and for the love of God, Harm, do something to let Mac know that you're okay. I'd rather not be driven insane by a Marine on a mission who needs to know where you are." Nate chuckled to himself as he left the room.

"Congratulations, sir, I knew you'd get it right eventually." Gunny gave Harm a pat on the back.

"The Hammer finds his permanent toolbox." Bax joked.

"Bax have you grown up at all since the Academy?" Harm rolled his eyes.

"Rabb, I had to convince him not to hit on women in a Muslim country like Algeria because it was likely to end in a Samson/Delilah kind of scenario. He still tried anyway." Webb slouched in his chair.

"You scored, didn't you?" Harm looked up at his buddy.

"Twice." Bax was smiling and nodding.

"Have you checked to make sure that you still have your wallet?" Harm asked, and laughed as Bax gave the pockets of his jeans a pat down. "Isn't that a surprise?"

"He and Captain Keeter were the worst, sir. I get the feeling that you and Commander Turner kept the two of them under control in your Academy days." Gunny joked at his CO.

"Actually in our Academy days, once Keeter and I shook a bit of the parental influence off of them, the two of them really rattled a few cages. Hammer and Bubble got in more then a few jams that they couldn't handle that Jack and I had to bail them out of." Bax put a supportive hand on his old buddy's back.

"Bubble, sir? Commander Turner's nickname at Canoe U was 'Bubble'? I'm really going to have to remember that one for later, sir." Gunny laughed lightly, breaking his Marine stoicism.

"Sturgis threatened to kill us if we ever used that name again, somehow, I don't think he was kidding." Harm shook his head. "It would be fun to trot old bubble out of the closet for a nice verbal tongue lashing when we get back from Panama."

"Sturgis might kill us. Two aviators, a SEAL and a Marine; we might be able to hold him off for a while but a pissed of Preacher's kid with a right hook that split my lip a few times, that's a force to be reckoned with."

"We'll deal with it when we get back from Panama, guys, huh?" Webb stood up and moved toward the door and was soon followed by the rest of the team.

1826 ZULU

THIRD DISTRICT COURT

BROOKLYN, NEW YORK CITY

Nate dusted the lint off the lapel of his jacket. He had been too late to hear the verdict be read before lunch but he was here for sentencing. He swung open the back doors to the courtroom and went strolling in. All eyes in the court turned to face him. Mama DiPiccio was looking at him like he was the knight in shining armour here to save the day. Nate knew that he couldn't overturn a verdict but h might be able to provide testimony in mitigation and even present his sentencing suggestion to the court. "May I be heard, your honour?" Nate asked the judge at the head of the court.

"Secretary Ross, I don't know what you feel you can add to these proceedings." Judge Rita Hearn was a lifelong Democrat from Harlem and one of the most respected women in the New York Bar Association. She also went to Penn State at the same time Nate did so she was inclined to grant him a little leeway.

"Testimony in mitigation of sentencing, your honour. I believe that the defendant while no doubt misguided is a generally well-meaning kid. And as tempted as I would personally be to throw him in Riker's for a spell of two years I believe that there's a more beneficial option for the rehabilitation of Angelo DiPiccio." Nate piped up.

"Approach, Mister Secretary." Judge Hearn waved Nate up to the bench and he approached. "Alright, Nate, what's the skinny on this kid?"

"Come on, Rita, you know that the streets of New York are like, this is an Inferno…" Judge Hearn cut him off.

"Dante wouldn't buy tickets to. I know, I know, fifteen years, Nate you need some new material. But I see your point; I won't let my kids go out unless I've got the complete fact sheet. The husband and I are even talking about moving out to Westchester County." Rita placed a hand on her chin.

"Going to play tennis with all the nice Jews, are you Rita?" Nate joked.

"What's your recommendation, Nate?" Judge Hearn had a habit for cutting the crap.

"Five year enlistment in the Marines." Nate suggested and Judge Hearn looked sceptical. "Listen, Rita, a DI out at Parris Island is going to be tougher on the kid then any prison guard could hope to be. Besides, if you send him into the Marines, you've done something constructive, you've given him skills he can actually use and he'll be serving the country."

"Alright, I think I can recommend that for sentencing. Five year enlistment sounds like a real hitch for him. You really think this kid can make something of himself?" Judge Hearn pointed with a pen at Angelo who was standing at the defence table.

"I think the Marines had straightened out arrows that were more crooked then Angelo DiPiccio, your honour." Nate answered and stepped back from the bench.

"Mr. DiPiccio, due largely to the overwhelming respect that I have for Secretary Ross and the judgement that I know he possesses, I have seen fit to honour his request for mitigation of sentencing. You are to enlist in the United States Marine Corps for a period no shorter then five years by 1700 hours on Friday evening. If you should fail to do so, you will serve the maximum sentence in Riker's Island Correctional Facility for your transgression. This court is adjourned." Judge Hearn banged her gavel.

Mama DiPiccio came running down the aisle to her son. "Angelo, what do you say to Nathan for keeping you out of prison?" She began to lecture.

"Ma, he turned me into a freakin' jarhead." Angelo complained in a stereotypically immature fashion.

"There's nothing wrong with that. Your father was a Marine and a darn good one. You should be proud that the Marines would take you." She pulled on her son's cheek to illustrate her point. Then she turned to Nate. "Nathan, what do I owe you for coming down here and bailing my Angelo's cannoli out of the fire?"

"You could consent to my marrying your daughter." Nate replied, sticking his hands in the pockets of his coat.

"What?" Mama DiPiccio raised her hands to her face. "Oh my God, are you serious? You're going to marry my little Nicole." The tiny, older Italian woman wrapped her arms around Nate's rib cage. "Wait, are you Catholic?"

"Working on it." Nate replied with a quick smile.

"Working on it?" Mama DiPiccio questioned.

"Long story." Nate answered.

1516 LOCAL

CIA LOFT

PANAMA CITY, PANAMA

"Fuck, it's hot, why the hell didn't the Secretary tell us it was going to be this hot?" Bax griped as he peered through the binoculars into the loft across the street.

"Exactly what is the temperature, Gunny?" Harm asked, by now he was on his third bottle of water.

"Boiling Marine, sir." Gunny replied as he made another pot of coffee.

"Jesus, Gunny how can you drink that stuff in 112 degree Fahrenheit heat?" Harm shook the sweat off his forehead.

"Marine insulation, sir." Gunny replied.

"Galindez, we're trying to apprehend a major international terrorist. We have more important things to talk about then how good or bad your coffee is and what purpose it serves." Webb stirred on the floor.

"What's got you in such a cranky mood?" Bax lightly kicked Webb in the knee on the floor.

"Heat added to sobriety added to Galindez's coffee added to long plane ride, you happy?" Webb sat up and took a feeble swing at Bax's leg.

"Webb, if the Company can get intelligence enough to tell us where these guys are, why can't you just take them out for us and allow me to not boil in some godforsaken corner of the globe?" Harm took the binoculars from Bax.

"If the Company does it, then it's espionage and that can be traced back to the United States government. If we do it, it's bounty hunting and we may be shot but no one can trace us back to the US since both the Pentagon and Langley have no written record of our employment for them while we're out of the country on these missions." Webb reached for a bottle of water from the case that they had brought into the country.

"Guys, you may want to see this." Harm waved and everyone else came over to the window. "Does that guy look enough like the photos we were given. I remember Reid saying something about Fahd being a chameleon of sorts." Gunny picked up a picture and studied it for a few minutes, registering the facial structure in the picture before examining the man in the street below.

"I'd be about 99 sure that man is Sadik Fahd, sir." Gunny answered.

"Only one way to be sure, Gunny. Go down there and see if you can get a closer look." Bax gave Gunny a pat on the back before moving back to the cot in the room.

"Why me, sir? Why not Commander Rabb or Mister Webb?" Gunny furrowed his brow.

"Because neither Commander Rabb nor Webb look like a local, Gunny. The idea of sending someone down there is to get a better look at Fahd without rousing suspicions. If Fahd or any of his cronies see Harm or Webb, it would risk our cover. If you go, they won't think anything of seeing you on the street." Bax rolled toward the wall.

"Alright, sir, I'll go." Gunny nodded at Bax before heading out of the door.

"You know, you shouldn't target him just because he fits in with a bunch of local Hispanics." Harm reminded his old Academy friend.

"Gunny speaks Spanish and looks like a Panamanian local. So, if Gunny accidentally bumps into Sadik, Sadik won't think anything more of him then the fact that he's just another hombre. If I send one of you two to do it, Sadik will be immediately suspicious, your appearances scream lonely American gringo and Sadik's no moron, he's going to wonder what an American – any American – is doing in Panama and we have no idea who's working with him in this city, we don't know who has seen us and what they've seen so I'm not taking any chances." Bax raised the binoculars to his eyes and looked down into the street.

Gunny crossed the street from the building where the CIA flat was located. There always seemed to be large crowds moving along the sides of the streets in this city, so it was hard even for an experienced Navy SEAL like Bax to keep a fixed eye on Gunny in so large a crowd. Gunny walked through the crowd with his head down and his eyes firmly fixed on the street beneath his feet. He knew that Sadik and his men were headed toward him and all he had to do was get close enough to Sadik to analyze his facial features.

Gunny lifted his head too late and ended up running right into Sadik himself. Gunny stumbled for a second and looked up at Sadik and right into his eyes, making a quick five second profile of the terrorist's face. "My apologies, sir." Gunny spouted off quickly in Spanish.

"Watch where you're going." Sadik angrily answered. Gunny tipped his straw hat to the irate Iranian before ducking into a nearby alleyway. He waited there for several minutes before peering around the corner to see that Sadik's men had disappeared from view. He tipped the brow of his hat and quickly trotted across the street back to the building where the rest of the team was cooped up in the flat. He jogged up the dank, barely lit stairwell toward the flat.

Gunny opened the door and was met by Webb and Bax, both of whom were on the edge of their seat waiting for the Gunny to report. "Well, Gunny, is that our man."

"Without a doubt, sir." Gunny answered.

2151 ZULU

ROSE PIERCE'S HOME

WILLOW GROVE, PENNSYLVANIA

Nate stood at the orange door to the small bungalow style home near Naval Air Station Willow Grove. He had been having regular visits with a Catholic friend of his at St. Matthew's Cathedral back home in DC and he knew that if he wanted to marry his Nicole, he was going to have to do this. It was a necessary step. But it wasn't one that he had to do alone. His brother Steve had been on an investigation with his NCIS team at the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard so he had asked him to accompany him on this visit.

Nate hung his head and tapped on the door. He stood back as he heard footsteps approach the door. His security detail was waiting on the lawn below the porch. The door opened and Nate came face to face with the woman that he had spent the better part of nine years trying to forget. "Nathan?" Rose rubbed her eyes. "Why are you here?"

"Nice to see you too." Nate's sarcasm kicked in immediately. It was almost like being married to her all over again. "I've been talking to a Catholic friend of mine and it seems that in order to get married in the Catholic Church, I have to have received an annulment of my previous marriage. I've had the papers drawn up and all they require is your signature." Nate pulled the documents out of his breast pocket and handed them to her. Rose threw her head back and chuckled.

"This is rich; all these years and you need my permission to get married to another woman." Rose took the papers and looked them over. She turned to face Stephen. "You always were one to follow him around like a dutiful little dog, always obeying the orders of your older brother. It's a wonder that you never became a Marine."

"Leave him out of this." Nate warned with clenched teeth. "Just sign the damn papers so I can get the hell out of here and get back to Washington."

"Tell me, Nathan who's the gold-digging little bimbo that decided to sink her claws into one of the nation's most powerful men? You know how I avoid the scandal sheets; I tend to not pay attention to celebrity romances." She caustically smiled at him. Nate regarded her with his coldest stare, accompanied by an absolute and definitive silence. "Do I at least know the woman?"

"Yes." Nate answered sharply.

"Well, you could at least tell me who it is, you're getting married, I'm going to find out in the Times or Newsweek anyway." She rolled her eyes at him. Nate held his silence but Steve couldn't take any more of his former sister-in-law's belittling attitude so he decided to give her a quick lesson in ego deflation.

"He's dating Peach. Has been for a while now. I don't think I've ever seen him do damn happy come to think of it." Steve shot at her almost venomously.

"So, you're dating _her?_ I always knew you were screwing her when we were married. All those late nights at the office couldn't have been as innocent as you made them seem." She taunted him wickedly. Finally she just pulled the lid off the pen and signed the papers. She pushed the papers back against his chest. "Here's to the hope that I never see you again." She muttered before closing the door.

"Well, that was like pulling a tooth without Novocaine." Nate joked as they walked across the front lawn toward the waiting car that was going to take them back to Marine Four.

2108 LOCAL

CIA LOFT

PANAMA CITY, PANAMA

"We look like we're going to rob a bank. Webb, is this really necessary?" Bax plied his face with black paint.

"How would you go about getting this guy, oh wise Commander?" Webb shot sarcastically.

"I don't know, maybe just pull him off the street in the middle of the day, in broad daylight and make sure that we have the Rangers in the air so that we can get the hell out of here." Bax pulled the black cotton cap on over his hair.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure the Panamanians would love that. Then they get on the phone to call Nate and they tell him that American operatives were operating without the consent of the Panamanian government. Nate has to pretend like he knew nothing about it and he has to chew us out and make a big show of disciplining us in front of the international community, effectively ending your career and Harm's as Naval officers as well as Galindez's career in the Marines. I think for all those concerned, it's probably best that we do it this way." Webb pushed a clip into his pistol.

"Didn't Chegwidden once say that the only thing he had to worry about was you being a lousy shot?" Harm asked as he locked a magazine into the AK-47.

"Hey, I came through on that mission." Webb argued.

"First time for everything." Gunny jested as the four of them walked toward the door. "Does anybody think there's something wrong with the fact that we'll be able to walk down the street carrying firearms and no one's going to say anything about it?"

"Yeah, it's almost like living in New York." Harm joked as they moved down the hallways to the stairwell. The team exited the building and fanned out into two teams on either side of the street. Gunny was tasked with making sure that Webb didn't screw up too bad with going in the front door, while Bax and Harm went into Sadik's building via the fire escape.

"Who would have thought all those years ago at the Academy that we would be chasing major international terrorists all over the globe?" Bax remarked as he and Harm began to slowly climb the steel ladder of the fire escape.

"Back when we were kids at the Academy, the Soviets were the biggest threat; the world order sure seems to have made one hell of a change in the last decade or so." Harm contributed quietly as the two of them crouched down on the steel patio outside the window to the apartment that Webb had cased after Sadik had left earlier in the evening. With Sadik back inside, they were now nearing the end of what they had come to Panama to accomplish.

Gunny and Webb had climbed the stairs inside the building and got closer and closer to the apartment that Sadik had rented out while he was carrying out his operations in Panama. Webb placed the silencer on the end of his pistol and instructed Gunny to do the same thing. The two men peaked around the corner, down the hall where Sadik's room was, there were two men pacing the hall with the standard thug issue AK-47s. It was clear that the terrorists understood the basic reasons for the use of that weapon as well. Gunny took aim with his weapon and pulled the trigger. The bullet entered the chest of one of the guards and exited through his back, lodging itself in the wall behind him.

Just as the other guard heard his accomplice hit the ground, he turned and Webb fired his shot into the man's head. The bullet entered the man's head with such force that the exit wound created a rather large splatter effect of carnage on the wall behind him. The man slumped back against the wall; he landed in a sitting upright position. Gunny and Webb tiptoed to the door and barely nudged it open, making their way inside. Gunny and Webb cleared the entry way and worked their way down a shot hallway toward the living room.

The smell of smoke filled the room. "Drop your weapons." The voice demanded and the lights flickered on, Gunny and Webb were standing across the room from Sadik and two more of his bodyguards. The bodyguards had weapons pointed in their direction and Gunny and Webb had their weapons drawn on them in turn. "In my business, such protections are necessary, especially when one is being hunted. When you bumped into me in the street today I could tell that you were not a native, despite some very good efforts on your part to convince me otherwise. You are in fact late; I was expecting you five minutes ago."

"You sacrificed your guards out in the hall to be killed?" Webb asked with a furrowed brow.

"Some things are necessary, as I said earlier. They will be revered as martyrs for Allah in their death. You, on the other hand will die the death of an infidel." Sadik drew a pistol from his pocket and pointed it at Gunny.

Outside, Harm and Bax raised their eyes to look in the window, the second that the lights had flickered on. The two of them readied their weapons at the window. Bax kicked in the screen and a round of gunfire was exchanged. At the end of which, both of Sadik's bodyguards lay dead on the floor, wallowing and rotting in pools of their own blood. Sadik lay on the ground with a bullet in his shoulder that was causing him considerable pain.

Gunny walked over and crouched near to the ground, he chuckled at Sadik. "Now, I believe you said something about me dying an infidel's death?" He coaxed before getting back on to his feet and dealing a swift kick to Sadik's ribs. "Let's get him back to the States, sir. It's getting near to Christmas time back home and I'd sure like to be there to see what Santa left under the tree for me this year."

"What did you ask him for, Gunny?" Harm asked as he and Bax pulled Sadik to his feet and slapped handcuffs on him.

"A blonde, sir. About 36-24-36?" Gunny joked as they dragged Sadik out the front door.

1123 ZULU

J & H YOUNG JEWELLERS

WASHINGTON, DC

"Would you care to remind us why we're here?" Mike asked as he walked through the store with Nate and Mac.

"Yes, the two of you are here because I'm trying to pick out a ring that I think would be perfect for Nicole and I figured that the opinion of a woman and a recently married man would probably be beneficial." Nate answered as he looked through the glass cases.

"I think that he just wants someone to blame if he screws up." Mac joked to Mike and the two of them caught a rather nasty glare from Nate. Both Mac and Mike rolled their eyes before continuing to inspect the different rings in the store. The store was reputed as one of the last family run businesses in Washington. Mister and Missus Young had run the business since the fifties and now their kids were starting to take over.

Nate wasn't one to go for the hokey sentimentality of giving a family heirloom ring to the woman he was in love with, especially since that was what he had done the first time and that marriage didn't end so well. He lightly skimmed the merchandise at the store counter when old Missus Young came walking up to him. "Is that Secretary Ross? My God, you're much more handsome in person then on TV." She put her glass on the bridge of her nose. "Henry! Come on out here, it's Secretary Ross."

A little, old hunched over man, staring through his own round-framed pair of spectacles came walking out of an office in the back of the store. "As in Nathan Ross?" The little old man asked. "Nathan, my name's Henry Young, you might not know this but I served with your grandfather on Okinawa. Old Colonel Horatio Ross turned a lot of boys into men in the Pacific during that war." Mr. Young was now standing behind the counter. "I reckon you're here to buy a ring for that nice girl that you were with at that play a few weeks back."

"I sure am, Mr. Young, is there anything that you can recommend?" Nate put his hands on the glass and looked around.

"There are things I could recommend, but it doesn't work that way. You just kind of know when you find the right one. Marriage and ring shopping are a lot alike in that sense." Mr. Young gave Nate a pat on the shoulder before turning back to the office.

"Hey, Nate, how about this one?" Mike pointed at the case and Nate looked over at what Mike was pointing at.

"Too cliché." Nate muttered before continuing his perusal.

"What about this one?" Mac pointed to a ring that was in a case on the far side of the store. Nate walked over and took a quick look at the ring.

"The diamond's too big." Nate shot quickly before heading back to the main display.

"Don't you find it a little weird that he invites us along and then shoots down any idea we come up with?" Mac shouted at Mike from across the store.

"Well he has to shoot down any ideas that you give him, if Peach finds out that you helped pick out her engagement ring, she'll make him sleep on the couch for a good six months and I'm not sure that would do wonders for his back." Mike answered as he leaned back against the merchandise case.

"I'm not sure that Peach's lack of attention would do wonders for other parts of his anatomy either." Mac joked and she and Mike shared a laugh. Nate didn't seem to move from one spot in the shop the whole time they were talking, he just stared down into the jewel case.

"That one." Nate mumbled as he pointed into the case. "That's her ring." Nate tapped on the glass.

"Now, that's a good one. That right there's a First Lady's ring." Harry Young winked at Nate and pulled the ring out of the case. "Your old grandpa used to remind me of President Truman, and you young man, sure do remind me a lot of your grandfather." Harry Young looked the ring over. "Any chance you know her size?"

"It's the same as my pinky finger." Nate wiggled the aforementioned finger in the air. His cell rang at that moment and he dipped his hand into the pocket of his coat to pick it up. "Secretary Ross."

"Nate, it's Harm, we've got Fahd and we're headed home." Harm's voice came through the other end of the phone.

"No you're not. The Company's under orders to take you to Delta. Have some fun in the Cuban sun until I get have NCIS Director Morrow send his best team down there to relieve you and take custody of Fahd, Ziyda and Mourari." Nate replied with a sarcastic smile.

"I have to spend a week at Gitmo?" Harm whined.

"Just think of all the nice senoritas you could meet. I'm sure Gunny and Bax will have a blast and I may just send Keeter down there to keep you entertained." Nate joked.

"The only women on base here are Marines." Harm replied, Nate could almost hear his brow furrowing through the phone.

"Should be right up your alley then." Nate chuckled as he closed the phone.


	30. Present a Brave Face to Adversity

_A/N: We're about halfway through Season Four, and for all those among you who have subscribed to this DVD edition of Season Four, we're going to offer special features. With the remaining chapters, we'll have a small section at the end where we answer any questions you have about the story, characters or storylines. So if you ever wanted to know what was behind some of our original characters or a piece of dialogue or a storyline, now's the time to ask! _

1456 ZULU

JAG HEADQUARTERS

FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

"Hail the conquering heroes!" Sturgis announced as he saw Harm, Bax and Gunny came walking into the bullpen. "Ethan Baxter! Jesus, I haven't seen you for a long damn time!" Sturgis walked up and hugged Bax. "I'm guessing you prevented Harm from getting himself killed on this trip."

"I did what I could. You know Harm though, always so determined to get himself killed." Bax joked as the two men pulled out of their embrace. "So, how's the Bubble?" Bax joked as he struggled to maintain a straight face, Harm and Gunny on the other hand had already broken down.

"You two told Gunnery Sergeant Galindez?" Sturgis looked mortified.

"Sorry, Sturgis, but we just couldn't help it." Harm chuckled as he gave his friend a pat on the back. "But look at it this way, it was bound to come out sooner of later."

"What was bound to come out sooner or later?" Mac asked as she came walking out of her office toward the group of men.

"Sturgis' nickname." Bax offered up.

"Oh, this should be good." Mac crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"If any of you three tell her, I will kill you." Sturgis raised an index finger in warning to all the men. The three of them nodded their acceptance and then Harm came up with an ingenious plan.

"Hey Bud!" Harm called across the bullpen to the young Lieutenant whose nose was buried in a file. Bud looked up at his mentor to acknowledge that Harm had his attention. "Did you know that Commander Turner's nickname at the Academy was 'Bubble'?"

Sturgis' anger level instantly rose but Bax intervened. "You only said we couldn't tell Mac, it's not our fault that she listened in on a conversation that Harm and Lieutenant Roberts were having." Bax was still trying not to laugh but by now, Mac and Bud had joined Gunny and Harm by chuckling joyously at Sturgis' expense. "Sturgis, lighten up, it's not like we publicly broadcast any of the stunts you pulled at the Academy, we just announced the call sign that Keeter and Harm gave you." He felt Sturgis relax.

"Yeah, Sturgis besides it's not like Harm won't buy you a beer to make up for it." Mac chimed in.

"_This_, this is Mac?" Bax asked looking over the pretty Marine in front of him. "Well, aren't you the goddess? The name's Commander Ethan Baxter but everyone calls me Bax."

"Not true, my dad calls him 'dumb ass'." Sturgis piped up.

"And my mom calls him trouble." Harm added as he stepped over to Mac and put his arm around her shoulders in a classic protective gesture. "Bax this is Sarah MacKenzie."

"Who I'm sure is completely capable of introducing herself, Hammer. Unless there's something about you two that you're not telling me." Bax raised a hand to his chin. Mac knew there was something about this Bax character that she was going to like but there was something about each one of Harm's friends that she found endearing. Harm froze up against her. He was praying that something or someone would interrupt what had become an increasingly awkward moment.

"Brother! It is Christmas leave!" Sergei's pleasant tone could be heard from the JAG elevators. Harm, and the rest of the crowd turned to see three Midshipmen step off the elevators. Sergei Rabb led the way in his Midshipman Fourth Class, Class A uniform. He was followed by Midshipman Fourth Class Mike Roberts and Midshipman Second Class Anna Ross as they all walked into the JAG bullpen.

"A Second Class hanging out with two plebes? This is a stretch." Harm looked over the three Midshipmen who had come to attention in front of him since he was the senior officer in the room.

"Well, sir, we had come up with a plan by which the three of us wouldn't have to be separated until Christmas morning." Anna started and Mikey took over.

"Yeah, all of us are going to Bud and Harriet's on Christmas Eve for dinner and we're going to the Ross' Family Christmas the night before since Reverend Chegwidden couldn't make Christmas Eve since she does services all night that night." Mike nodded as he concluded his sentence.

"What are you going to do tonight?" Harm asked.

"Just hang around, you know, nothing big." Mike answered but all three of the Midshipmen looked at Mac.

"What was that?" Harm asked, instantly suspicious.

"What was what?" Mac replied.

"They all just looked at you." Harm accused.

"No we didn't." The three Midshipmen answered. Harm eyed them suspiciously before dismissing them to wreak their own specific brand of havoc. Mike and Sergei were like two brothers attached at the hip. The two of them spent the majority of their time with Bud or even talking with the Admiral. They came out of the Admiral's office and their eyes practically popped out of their heads when they came face to face with Petty Officer Jennifer Coates. The two boys seemed to go into instant drooling moron mode.

Anna Ross on the other hand had found a new role model in Sarah MacKenzie, even in her family, female Marines were notoriously hard to come by. Especially since the Ross family had a legendary pedigree for handing down the Y chromosome more often then not and even with a few women in the family they were mostly encouraged to avoid the Corps. Her and Mac were rapt in conversation when Anna looked back to see Sergei and Mike fawning over Coates. "What is it about brown hair and big boobs that sends those two into a mindless frenzy." Anna remarked, then remembered who she was talking about. "Sorry, about that lax in decorum, Colonel."

"Not a problem, Midshipman. I guess it just allowed me to see how the other half lives." Mac was shocked.

"What do you mean, ma'am?" Anna Ross raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, Anna. Having spent my life as a brunette I always got frustrated when men paid more attention to the blondes, especially the well-endowed ones. I just never figured that those blondes would have the same problems." Mac chuckled slightly.

"I don't know, ma'am. To them, it's weird, I mean I'm used to getting noticed by men for something that has nothing to do with my qualifications to be a Marine Corps officer but Mike and Sergei never treat me that way. They treat me like……I don't know, like…" Anna shook her head trying to come up with the right description.

"One of the guys?" Mac ventured. "Be thankful. In the Marine Corps, it's the officers that don't look at you like a fellow officer that you have to watch out for." Mac warned.

" I know but, ma'am just once in a while I'd like to hear 'you look nice' or something like that, something that reminds me that they know I'm a woman because with all the testosterone that flies back and forth at the Academy, I'm not sure they do." Anna lamented as they walked toward Mac's office.

"The only advice I can give you is to know what you want be careful what you wish for. You've got a lot of potential to be a great Marine officer." Mac gave the young girl a supportive hug before letting her go on her way.

"Come on, Anna let's go bug your brother now." Sergei cam bounding across the bullpen.

"If the Secretary can make time for us." Mikey Roberts added.

"If the three of you are headed over that way, the Gunny and I would be glad to give you a lift over to our offices." Bax motioned toward the JAG doors.

"Thanks, Commander." Anna nodded and the group headed out of JAG.

1843 ZULU

HARRY TRUMAN BUILDING

FOGGY BOTTOM, WASHINGTON DC

"Thanks for the lunch, Commander." Mikey answered as they walked through the halls toward Nate's office.

"Yeah, Commander Baxter, it sure was swell of you to take a bunch of Midshipmen out to dinner." Anna Ross gushed like a schoolgirl at the Navy Commander who had been so attentive.

"No problem, always willing to help a lady." Bax playfully tipped his cover to her.

"Yeah, I bet." Sergei remarked under his breath to Mike Roberts.

"Sergei, chill, I don't want to get trapped between you and the Commander if punches get thrown. Roberts' have a tendency to wind up with wire jaws in those situations." Mike tried to calm down his Russian friend. "Besides, striking a superior commissioned officer is a big no-no."

"I will bide time, yes?" Sergei asked.

"Wise idea.' Mike nodded as the door opened and they all walked into Nate's office. True to the established norm, Peach was in the office with Nate and the two of them were picking at lunch out of cartons from the local Chinese take-out.

"I thought she didn't work here any more?" Bax asked, pointing at Peach.

"My girlfriend gets to come and go as she pleases." Nate replied as he got up out of his chair. He walked over and shook Bax's hand and then shook Gunny's.

"When she's my sister-in-law, I'll feel better about the whole arrangement." Anna decided to make her presence known. Nate smiled as he saw his sister pop out from behind Bax. He wrapped her in a big brotherly hug.

"How you doing, kid?" Nate whispered in her ear. "They taking care of you?"

"Contrary to popular belief, big brother. Female Marines are just as capable of looking out for themselves as the male ones are." Anna answered, emboldened by her earlier talk with Mac.

"You're my little sister, I have to ask these questions. It says so in the Big Brother Handbook." Nate replied. "And they get very angry when I break the rules."

"So did Mom and Dad, that never stopped you before." Anna replied as she and Nate backed out of the hug.

"We'll be heading down to the office now to fill out after-action reports. Talk to you later, boss." Bax replied as he and Gunny headed out of the office.

"Alright so what do the three of you want?" Nate sat on the edge of his desk with his arms crossed across his chest.

"Big brother, is there any chance that we can borrow the limo and head out to the grocery store. We have some things that we need to pick up for a little get together that a friend of ours is throwing tonight." Anna tossed her brother a puppy dog look.

"That look only works on dad and Steve, it doesn't work on me." Nate turned back toward his chair.

"Because you're a hard ass. Come on, Nate, let us have the limo just for the afternoon." Anna pleaded.

"Yeah, come on, sir, it's not like you're using it." Mikey Roberts jumped in.

"I'd watch your tone, Midshipman, do you know whom you're addressing." Nate used his best DI tone.

"My apologies, sir." Mikey Roberts squared up again.

"Anna, what would dad say if you were asking him that question?" Nate turned his attention back to his sister. Just before Anna could answer, an explosion shook the building and sent everyone to the floor. "What the hell was that?" Nate dusted himself off as he climbed to his feet.

"It felt like an explosion." Mike surmised as he also got to his feet.

"You got all that from the ground shaking and a loud boom?" Nate shot sarcastically. "Sorry, Midshipman but explosions in downtown Washington DC tend to make me a little nervous, especially when they knock me on my ass."

"It's alright, sir." Mike nodded as he watched Nate walk over and lock the door to his office.

"Why did you do that?" Peach asked as Nate came walking back over.

"The explosion knocked the power out, it was a safety precaution. I have no idea what's out there, I just don't want it getting in here." Nate came walking back over to his desk. "I'll call down to Gunny and Bax, the explosion came from below us a ways, since their offices are three floors down, they might have a better idea of what the hell is going on."

"What do you think is going on, Mr. Ross?" Sergei asked.

"I'm afraid I have no damn idea." Nate replied as he got Gunny and Bax's office on the intercom. "Guys what the hell is going on down there?" Nate shouted.

"Maintenance says it was an explosion along the main electrical circuit, it's knocked out electricity to the whole building." Gunny answered, slightly coughing.

"Well, what happened? Were the wires corroding? Were they tampered with?" Peach pressed on, her voice stressing the urgency of the situation.

"I don't think you heard me the first time, ma'am. There was an explosion, there was definitely someone tampering with the system." Gunny replied, as he concluded a few loud pops like gunfire could be heard in the background.

"What the hell is going on down there!" Nate shouted, upon hearing the gunfire.

"Gunshots, sir." Bax replied quickly.

"What kind, Gunny? You're a Marine." Mikey Roberts asked urgently.

"Sounds like a Heckler and Koch, sir but I can't be sure." Gunny answered.

"Alright, we'll be down there in a minute. Clear that floor and the fourth floor, I'm on floor six, I'll see you in a few. And Gunny?" Nate inquired.

"Yes, sir?" Gunny replied.

"Shoot anything that doesn't look like you, Bax, or one of us coming down to meet up with you." Nate hung up the intercom and walked over to the bookshelf. "In the cold war, when we built government buildings, we built fallout shelters into them. In a very Batcave kind of way, the entrances were concealed by different objects that blended into the décor of the office." Nate pulled on a copy of _The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire_ and the bookshelf slid aside revealing large steel door. Nate twisted the hatch on the door and opened the door. "You two inside." Nate pointed at Anna and Peach.

"Who put you in charge?" Peach asked, arms crossed in front of her chest.

"Honey, I love you too much to put into words, that's why you have to get in there. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you." Nate walked over to the desk and opened the drawer to his desk and pulled out a Beretta. He loaded a clip into it and took the safety off. He then looked up at Mike and Sergei. "Have either of you ever had to kill someone?" The two Midshipmen stood stalk still. "Alright, this is the point where either one of you says yes and I take you with me or neither of you says yes and I have to feel like a shit for just picking one of you to steal your innocence."

Sergei cautiously raised his hand in the air. Nate handed him the Beretta. "Why would you carry this in your office?" Sergei asked looking at the pistol.

"In case of emergencies." Nate answered. He then reached into a tall cabinet and pulled out a rifle bag.

"Why would you have a rifle in your office?" Peach questioned, eyeing her boyfriend suspiciously.

"Do you have any idea how many Senators and Congressmen drop by here wanting to take me hunting?" Nate chuckled. He loaded a few rounds of ammunition into the gun and executed perfect Hollywood style flip that locked the ammo in place. "I always wanted to do that."

"Is that Pappy Horatio's Winchester rifle?" Anna asked, eyeing the weapon.

"Yes, I believe it is." Nate answered. "Stay here, Marine and take good care of these two." He walked over to his girlfriend. "I love you, you know." He stated bashfully.

"I know." She answered softly. "I love you to, just come back here." She lightly stroked his arms before they kissed quickly. Nate moved away with Sergei and Anna closed the heavy metal door with Mike Roberts' help. Sergei and Nate trotted over to the door of his office and Nate unlocked it before they crept outside.

"Sergei, do you know how to cover someone?" Nate asked.

"I have seen the Beverly Hills Cop movies, I have some idea." Sergei answered with an innocent smile.

"You sure know how to inspire confidence, don't you kid?" Nate asked rhetorically.

"Well, I try, sir." Sergei quipped. The two of them moved through the dark hallways toward the elevator and the staircase.

"It would have to be a dark and gloomy day when something like this would happen. We couldn't get any light to help us." Nate rolled his eyes and they crouched nearer to the ground. "You wouldn't happen to have a tie, would you, son?" Sergei pulled his Academy uniform tie out from inside his coat. The two of them reached the elevator doors and pried them open.

Nate took off his tie and roped it around the elevator cable. "Lucky for us the power outage forced the elevator to the bottom floor." He swung out on to the cable with his legs and ankles locked around it. Sergei followed his action.

"Mr. Ross, if I may ask, what are you basing this action on?" Sergei asked, realizing that his tie was the only thing standing between him and six story plunge.

"I saw it in a movie once." Nate answered as he began to slowly inch his way down the cable. "By the way, I see those English lessons with Anna are paying off."

"Yes, sir, your sister is a most impressive teacher." Sergei groaned as he lowered himself little by little.

"Just remember that she's my little sister, Midshipmen." Nate coyly motioned with his head to the Winchester rifle that was dangling from his shoulder.

"Understood, sir." Sergei and Nate spent the next fifteen minutes crawling down the cable toward the fourth floor. When they got there, Gunny and Bax had the doors open for them.

"How did you know we were coming?" Nate asked.

"I figured you'd be stupid enough to pull a stunt like this." Bax replied as he saw the two of them dangling from the cable. "Granted it does having something of a Vampire Bat effect." Nate used his tie as leverage and swung on to the platform. Gunny took one look at the Winchester on his shoulder and raised his eyebrows.

"Planning on hunting some big game, sir?" Gunny tapped the barrel of the rifle. Sergei swung on to the platform with them.

"That depends, what kind of situation have we got, Gunny?" Nate asked.

"Terrorists on the first floor, sir. That explosion in the electrical system was a small amount of plastic explosive. They used stun grenades to take out the guards and most of the personnel on the first floor. They've concentrated to the three floors below us. The FBI and DC police are on their way. Commander Baxter patched through a call to NCIS as well. Director Morrow said he was sending his best team." Gunny brought his boss up to speed on the situation.

"Here's how I see it, boss. No one knows we're up here and if they do, they don't know we're armed and trained. We've got the element of surprise and the weapons to do some real damage." Bax and the rest of the group began to move toward the stairwell.

"Do we know who's behind this?" Nate asked.

"Mahmoud Sayyaf, sir." Gunny held up a picture that NCIS had emailed to his cell. Everyone saw Sergei's eyes grow wide.

"Something's wrong when a _Rabb_ looks that scared." Bax chimed in.

"Mahmoud Sayyaf was responsible for some of the worst, how you say, atrocities that occurred against Russian forces in Chechnya. I did not think that he would branch out his activities to America." Sergei seemed clearly shaken.

"Here's how I see it, boss. We split into two teams, you and the Gunny clear floor three, Sergei and I will clear floor two and we'll rejoin in the stairwell outside of the main floor. Harm would want me taking care of his kid brother and with two Marines on the same team, I don't think any terrorist stands much of a chance." Bax and the rest of them were standing on the stairs.

"Agreed."

2036 ZULU

JAG HEADQUARTERS

FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

All the TVs in the bullpen were tuned to ZNN. There was no escaping the news that was coming in. "This is Chuck DePalma for ZNN reporting live from outside the Harry Truman Building, home of the State Department. At 2:42 Eastern Standard Time, a plastic explosive charge was detonated on the main vein of the electrical system here. After that, to our knowledge the building has become under siege. To our knowledge there are no casualties and whether or not Secretary of State Nathan Ross is in the building, is not being released. For ZNN, this is Chuck DePalma reporting live." Everyone had their eyes on the TV.

"Sir, do you think Mikey and Sergei are there?" Bud Roberts' voice was weak.

"They left here just after eleven this morning, Bud, I'd say that there's a very good possibility. I know Nate, he's there I don't care what ZNN says. Let's just hope that he and Bax and Gunny are with them." Harm gave Bud a pat on the back.

"Rabb, Roberts, MacKenzie and Turner; my office, now!" The Admiral popped his head out the door to his office and issued the order. The four named officers made double time heading for the Admiral's office. All four officers came to attention in the Admiral's presence. "At ease. I guess you've all heard the news about the seizure of the State Department. I just got off the phone with my wife who had just received a call from her brother. Lieutenant Roberts, your brother is safe and you should be able to pick him up at the National Mall shortly." The Admiral watched as Bud breathed a sigh of relief.

"Any word on Sergei, sir?" Harm asked, growing increasingly frustrated with the silence that he was being presented with.

"He stuck around with the Secretary, Gunny Galindez and a Commander Baxter. I've been informed that Commander Baxter is a SEAL, so considering the people that your brother is with, Captain, I would say that he's in good hands." The Admiral took to his chair. "Lieutenant Roberts, you're relieved to go retrieve your brother. As for the rest of you, the court schedules have been cleared in light of today's events so you're all welcomed to sit here and await the latest news." The Admiral indicated the other chairs in his office and the officers all took their seats.

"Sir, isn't there something that we can do?" Mac's own concern for Sergei and her other friends that were trapped in the building was starting to show through.

"Colonel, as I recall, you and Captain Rabb were in a similar situation a few years ago at Mercy Hospital. Would you have wanted someone to storm in there and potentially make a bad situation worse?" The Admiral had one hand planted firmly under his chin.

"Good point, sir." Mac nodded.

"Colonel; young Rabb is on a team with two Marines and a SEAL, any way you slice that cake, he doesn't need the cavalry to come rescue him. He's a part of the cavalry." The Admiral raised the volume on the television and all talking ceased.

2129 ZULU

HARRY TRUMAN BUILDING

FOGGY BOTTOM, WASHINGTON DC

Nate and Gunny walked out into the cubicles on the second floor. They kept below the line of sight. "Know anything about skeet shooting, Gunny?" Nate asked in a quiet tone.

"Yeah, a bunch of rich old white guys stand around in a farmer's field and shoot little clay discs." Gunny answered as the two men crept along the walls of the cubicles. Gunny gave the single to fan out and clear the floor individually and Nate nodded in agreement. Nate and Gunny headed off in separate directions. Gunny checked the cubicles for someone who might be hiding or might have heard the door to the stairwell close when Nate and Gunny came on to the floor.

Gunny heard some papers rustling in a nearby cubicle and he slowly crawled along the floor until he came to the entrance of the cubicle. His experiences in Afghanistan had been enough for him to know Arabic when he heard it. Some man in the cubicle was communicating with someone else using the intercom that was linked into the phone system. Gunny readied his pistol and slid into a roll in front of the opening. He fired off a quick round into the cubicle, catching the man in the chest and sending him to the floor. Gunny crouched down and walked over to the limp body. He turned the body over to see an H & K in his hand and that severe bleeding was coming from the man's chest.

Gunny stuck a finger into the wound to see where his shot had caught the man. He felt his heart go a systolic. "Caught him right in the heart." Gunny whispered and then out of a superstition that his mother had taught him as a good Catholic boy, he waved a quick sign of the cross over the body.

Across the floor Nate was knelt inside a cubicle. He heard the sounds of footsteps heading down the aisle toward where the gunshot had been heard. Just as he saw the legs appear from behind the cubicle wall, Nate ducked down and stuck out the butt end of his rifle, tripping the man. His instincts kicked in he struck him in the temple with the butt of his rifle, meaning that it was a limp form that hit the floor. Nate took the guy's firearm and headed back to find Gunny.

Gunny got up as he came out of the cubicle and felt a cold steel barrel pressed into the back of his skull. "Walk." The man issued his order and Gunny raised his hands. The man took the pistol out of Gunny's belt and forced him down the row of cubicles toward the stairwell door. Gunny felt his captor's arm seize up and then another voice spoke in Arabic before a loud boom was heard and Gunny hit the dirt. He saw a severed head fall to the ground next to him.

"Amazing what a Winchester to the neck will do." Nate said as he helped Gunny to his feet.

"Thanks for saving my hide, sir." Gunny smiled as he got to his feet.

"Semper Fi, Gunny." Nate spouted as they headed for the stairs. "All clear on this floor?"

"As far as I could check, I'm assuming you cleared out your side." Gunny saw Nate nod in response as the two men walked with a real determination to get to the stairs and meet up with Gunny and Bax. "The sun should be going down in a few hours, when it gets dark, you know that the cops and the Feds are going to try and get people in here to sort out this whole mess."

"Yeah and that's just going to lead to a lot more carnage then necessary. We have to end this before the sun goes down, that gives us little more then two hours; think we can do it, Gunny?" Nate turned to face his comrade as they reach the door to the stairwell.

"We're the Marines, sir. We can do anything." Gunny affirmed.

2302 ZULU

JAG HEADQUARTERS

FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

Bud Roberts' car pulled back into the parking lot at JAG. He had picked up his brother along with Peach and Anna Ross at the National Mall only a little less then an hour earlier. The whole tale of how they had come to be there was very interesting even if it was a little hard to believe. They were now standing in the elevator at JAG and Bud was still shaking his head in disbelief. Which is to say that he knew that Captain Rabb wouldn't be any more at ease, knowing that Sergei had willingly put himself in danger. Even though Sergei had done the same thing repeatedly as a pilot in Russia, he knew that Harm would worry just as he had been worrying about Mikey.

The bell dinged and the elevator doors opened. The four people stepped out into a deserted JAG ops floor. Bud took them right over to the Admiral's office and knocked on the door. After a few seconds, they were greeted by Sturgis who readily let them in. "Any news, sir?" Bud asked as they stepped inside.

"Sources aren't telling ZNN anything but my guess is that they're preparing to send the teams in soon. It's getting dark, not that it's been all that light out with all the cloud cover today." The Admiral answered, by now he had his feet kicked up on the desk. The Admiral turned to face his new company, but it was Harm who was the first to speak.

"Midshipman Roberts, Midshipman Ross, is Sergei okay?" Harm asked, his anxieties momentarily getting the better of him.

"He was calm and willing to help the Secretary, sir." Mikey answered.

"They plan on taking down these guys from the inside? Are they armed?" Mac asked, now slightly confused.

"To the teeth." Anna Ross answered simply.

"Can you Marines even exist without a weapon in arm's reach?" Harm taunted looking at Mac.

"Just be glad I don't have one now." Mac quipped. "Are they really going to try and take these guys out all on their own?"

"It's insanity." Harm added.

"It's exactly what you would do." The Admiral replied quickly.

SAME TIME

HARRY TRUMAN BUILDING

FOGGY BOTTOM, WASHINGTON DC

"You guys run into any problems on floor two?" Gunny asked as he and Nate ran into Bax and Sergei in the stairwell.

"Four terrorists, you guys?" Bax loaded another clip into his gun.

"Three." Nate answered as he also reloaded his gun.

"Stands to reason that there will be three left on the bottom floor, total of ten, the cell wouldn't be any bigger then that for an attack on this scale. When Hamas went after Mercy Hospital a few years ago they had less then ten." Bax replied.

"What is the plan, Mr. Ross?" Sergei asked.

"If you were going to hold up on the bottom floor of this place anywhere, where would you hold up?" Nate turned to Gunny and Bax.

"Probably the cafeteria, it commands the best control over first floor traffic and it's the only room where you can hold all the hostages on the first floor without having to leave the room." Gunny answered, wiping the sweat from his face.

"He's right, boss." Bax added, running a hand through his hair.

"Alright, Bax, you and Sergei take the main approach to the cafeteria. Gunny and I will sneak into the kitchen at the back. We'll come up behind them; I don't care who you kill, I want Sayyaf alive." All the men put their hands in the centre of where they had gathered before once again breaking into separate groups. Gunny put his foot through the grate that covered the heating duct. "What are you doing, Gunny?"

"Sir, this duct runs in the direction of the kitchen, which means that it should take us into the heating and cooling system that runs in the kitchen, it's probably the most inconspicuous way to get there." Gunny explained as he crawled into the heating duct. Nate shook his head, undid the cuffs on his shirt and rolled up his sleeves before crawling in after Gunny.

Bax and Sergei had been tasked with taking the direct route and they did just that. They cleared each hallway individually as they made their way toward the cafeteria. "Not exactly the way I planned on getting to know you, kid." Bax chortled as he pressed his back up against one of the walls. "Your brother and I went to the Yard together; we've been friends a long time."

"He has spoken of his Academy friends, not so often to me." Sergei kept a firm Marine style stoicism on his face as he held his gun at the ready.

"Doesn't surprise me, there's a lot about those days that your brother would probably rather forget." Bax let out a heavy breath and raised his pistol to the side of his head, flicking the safety off. Sergei peeked around the corner and saw a lone sentry pacing the hallway. "Let me guess, one sentry carrying an H & K."

"How do you know?" Sergei whispered his question.

"Years of doing this kind of mission, there's always one less sentry on patrol then the amount of guys in the keep and the sentry always tends to have the same gun as everyone else on the team." Bax smiled in an almost self-deprecating way. "I can also hear his footsteps, Midshipman." Bax neared the corner of the wall and peaked around the edge and saw the man walking away from them. "Let's hope Nate and Gunny have made it to the kitchen by now." Bax flew around the corner and fired a shot into the back of the sentry's skull, sending him forward on to the floor. "And that, Midshipman, is how you shoot."

"I do have things to learn, sir." Sergei nodded as they continued to head toward the cafeteria. The two of them peaked through the glass on the door to the cafeteria and saw two men with assault rifles standing above a mass of people that were huddled and lying on the ground. Bax and Sergei raised their feet and brought them down on the door. They immediately raised their weapons. "Drop your weapons!" The two of them shouted as they came face to face with Sayyaf and his last remaining associate.

Gunny and Nate had crawled through the system of heating ducts until they had come out to a grate just above the sinks in the kitchen. "Lucky guess, Gunny." Nate grunted as he shifted out of the duct and into the waiting sink below.

"I prefer to think of it as creative recon, sir." Gunny chuckled as he dusted himself off. The two men stood in the kitchen for a second before they moved over to the large, steel double swinging doors that led out into the serving area. Gunny pushed the door slightly open and he and Nate looked out to see Bax and Sergei in an open standoff with the remaining terrorists.

"Gunny, you remember that question I asked you earlier about skeet shooting?" Nate looked over at his friend. Gunny nodded. "When I shout 'pull!', I want you to push the door open and I'll fire off a shot, let's just pray that my aim is what it used to be."

"You're a Marine, sir, we never lose our edge." Gunny coached as he crouched against the door and out of Nate's line of sight. Nate positioned himself with his gun at the ready and his aim pointed squarely at where he had seen the terrorist that wasn't Sayyaf. He steadied his breathing for a second and caught the rhythm of his heartbeats. He closed his eyes for a second and then just opened them. "Pull!"

The door flung wide open and Nate caught the terrorist in his sights and pulled the trigger. The man fell, but not before he and Sayyaf could turn toward Nate and get a shot off at Nate, a bullet buried itself in Nate's shoulder but adrenaline was coursing through his body at such a rate that he didn't care. One shot out of Sergei's gun, wounded Sayyaf and caused him to drop the gun. Nate rushed out with Gunny. Gunny picked up a pair of handcuffs from the one of the security guards who had been lying in terror on the ground.

The team of four rushed to Sayyaf and Gunny wrenched the terrorist's hands behind his back and slapped the cuffs on him. "Jesus, Nate, you're bleeding." Bax saw the blood that was coming out of Nate's wound and dripping on to the floor.

"Holy shit, that's the third bullet I've taken this year." Nate was starting to feel a little weak. "Here, one of you call outside and tell them that I'm going to bring Sayyaf out to them. They might also want to have and EMT on standby. Do you think you guys can return the situation to normal in here?"

"Go on out there." Gunny gave Nate a pat on the shoulder. "You might want to take this gun out there with you. A Winchester probably isn't the best weapon for a Secretary to show up on ZNN holding. They might wonder why you had it in your office." Gunny handed Nate a service sidearm. Nate took it with the hand of his wounded left arm and with his right arm he took the handcuffs by the chain-link and hauled him to his feet.

"Come on, you've got a date with the FBI." Nate taunted as he pushed Sayyaf toward the front door with the pistol pointed at the back of his head.

2411 ZULU

JAG HEADQUARTERS

FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

"We've got an update from the hostage crisis at the State Department. It appears that someone is exiting the building. Wait……it appears to be two people, one person is in handcuffs and the other is holding them captive. The person with the gun appears to be……it's Secretary of State Nathan Ross, he apparently seems to have taken one of the terrorists captive." Chuck DePalma's voice stopped for a second. "We're now receiving word that the hostage crisis is over and that a team working inside the State Department has defused the situation. Though, if the Secretary's shoulder is anything to judge by, it wasn't the most peaceful of resolutions. This is Chuck DePalma reporting live for ZNN." DePalma's voice could no longer be heard but the picture zoomed in to Nate handing Sayyaf over to the FBI and then collapsing to the ground. The Admiral hit the mute button on the television.

The phone in his office began to ring. "Chegwidden." The Admiral hit the speakerphone button.

"Gunny here, sir. I just wanted to call and let everyone there know that we've okay." You could almost here Gunny chuckle.

"Gunny, is Sergei with you?" Harm jumped in.

"I am here, brother!" Sergei's voice was the next on the line.

"Are you alright, Sergei?" Harm asked.

"Oh yes, brother. Commander Baxter had my back. It is a shame that Mr. Ross was shot." Sergei was speaking in short sentences as he aided the Emergency teams in evacuating the building.

"I think you owe me, Hammer." Bax added, obviously he was the next to handle the cell.

"More then you know, Bax." Harm looked around and he saw Peach and Anna nervously biting their nails after having seen Nate bleed and faint on national live television. "Bax, how's Colonel Ross?"

"Nate's alright considering he's been shot. The paramedics told me that the bullet tore through a bit of muscle and impacted against the bone but it didn't shatter it. They said their main concern at this point was blood loss but they said that they expect him to pull through." Bax replied. "We have to go and help them EMTs clear this place out, Hammer. Tell Mac that we're all set for tonight though." The call ended.

"Mac, what did he mean by we're all set for tonight?" Harm turned toward Mac but Mac just held her lips closed. "Mac? Maaaaaaaaaac?" Harm whined but he received no response.

"I suppose we should head back to your apartment and set up so that Sergei can relax when he comes home, he's had a hell of a day." Mac looked at Harm who merely nodded.

"We'll go help." Anna volunteered herself an Mike Roberts. "He'll want to see his friends."

"And I'm definitely coming." Sturgis got up from his seat. "You've almost run yourself into a grave worrying about your brother today. You could use all the friends you can get."

"I guess this means we're going in separate cars?" Harm joked to the open room to add a little levity to the situation.

0111 ZULU

HARM'S APARTMENT

NORTH OF UNION STATION

The group of them got to Harm's front door and Harm opened the door with his key to find his mom, Grams, Frank and Keeter already inside making dinner. "Mac gave us the key, hope you don't mind." Keeter was standing over a boiling pot of noodles.

"Merry Christmas, Harmon!" Trish called from the stove. Harm couldn't help but chuckle and look at Mac.

"You planned all this didn't you Marine?" He pointed an accusatory finger at her,

"A girl's got to have some secrets, Harm." Mac smiled at him and watched as Harm turned to face all those that had come to the apartment with them.

"And you were all in on it!" Harm acted as if he was about to shout eureka!

"Not just them." Bax's voice came from the elevator as he and Sergei got off of it.

"Two generations of Academy friends and my family; what will you think of next Marine?" Harm felt his old familiar feelings for Mac stir up to the forefront again. The group moved out of the doorway and into the apartment.

"Ask and he shall answer, Harmon." Grams pointed to the roof where a sprig of mistletoe dangled loosely.

"Can't break with tradition, Harm." Bax reminded him.

"Harm! Harm! Harm! Harm! Harm!" Mikey, Sergei and Anna all cheered and clapped their hands.

"He's right Marine, it wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to break with tradition." Harm turned to face Mac. "Merry Christmas, Ninja-girl." His lips neared hers.

"Merry Christmas, flyboy." Mac replied breathlessly. Their lips met in a soft, tender and quick flurry emotion as Mac's arms somehow snake around his neck and Harm's hands found her hips. This action was followed by a round of hooting and hollering from Bax, Keeter, Sturgis, Mikey and Sergei.

The two of them broke after a few seconds and Harm turned toward the other guys in the room. "Knock it off." He joked with them but there was no covering up what he had expressed to Sarah MacKenzie just then. The guys all went off toward the kitchen.

"What do I ask Santa for now?" Mac mused under her breath.

"You've got it bad, Colonel." Anna Ross piped up as she came up next to Mac.

"Not a word, Midshipman." Mac warned.

"My lips are sealed, ma'am." Anna chuckled before going up to join Mikey and Sergei.


	31. The Work of Many Decisions

Dr. Eileen Ross dropped her pen on the legal pad of paper in front of her. It was days like this that she regretted going back into private practice. She liked teaching at Georgetown, why did she think her husband was being enlightened when he suggested that she do this. She rubbed her eyes and looked toward the door. It was 6pm, just about quitting time. She rolled her chair over to her desk and dropped the pen and paper on the desk before hearing a tapping on her door. "Come in." Eileen Ross looked over the spectacles perched regally on her nose.

The door slowly opened and in stepped Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie. Mac looked around cautiously as she had her coat draped casually over her left arm. "Um, good evening, Doctor Ross."

"Nice to see you, Sarah dear." Eileen's demeanour softened. She had a weak spot for Sarah MacKenzie ever since she had first met the younger woman. "If you've come to take me to dinner, you're a godsend."

"No, I was actually, uh, kind of hoping we could talk." Mac sat on the couch.

"In a professional or personal capacity?" Eileen re-crossed her legs.

"Can you separate the two?" Mac asked curiously.

"Billing does that for me." Eileen joked. "What can I help you with, Sarah? As a friend who happens to have psychiatric training rather then as a psychiatrist."

"Well, I guess it's just that I seem to be having problems managing the boundaries in my personal life." Mac ran a self-conscious hand over her hair. "If that makes any sense."

"Dear, I married a Marine and raised three, it makes more sense then you can possibly imagine. What personal boundaries are you having a problem maintaining?" Eileen rested her chin on her hand.

"Boundaries that I closed off a long time ago." Mac got up from the couch and began pacing the floor.

"The question is, why did you close them off?" Eileen watched as Mac walked over to the window. "Most patients, in my experience, close themselves off to avoid painful confrontations, it gives them something to hide behind."

"Is that what you think I'm doing?" Mac was indignant. "You think I'm hiding?"

"Perhaps that was a bad choice of words. Think of it more like an emotional flak jacket. It's something you wear to protect yourself from emotional bullets." Eileen tried to calm Mac down.

"So you're saying that I treat my life like it's combat?" Mac asked, trying to grasp the concept.

"In a sense. It's very common in Marines, because of their training, they instinctually identify things as potential friends or enemies or threats. If they end up misidentifying something, they put up an emotional barrier to protect themselves from incurring a similar pain." Eileen got up from the chair and walked over to the coffee machine. "What's at the heart of this issue? You identified it earlier as being something personal."

"A man. Isn't it always a man." Mac shook her head and walked over to the coffee machine, next to Eileen. Mac took the cup of coffee that she was offered. "This is good and strong. How did you know the secret."

"Forty years with a Marine, I had to learn fast, dear." Eileen smiled wisely. "Alright, so tell me about this man, what kind of relationship do you have with him. You don't have to use names if you would feel more comfortable without them."

"If you could define our relationship in a word, it would probably be 'complicated'." Mac chuckled in a self-deprecating way.

"Most things in life are, either for better or worse. What has caused some boundary confusion in your relationship with this man?" Eileen sat back in her chair.

"His actions lately, ever since last summer actually. He's been more open, he's let me see more of what he wants, I think. But I thought this once before and I got burned badly when it turned out I was wrong." Mac leaned forward and her elbows bug into her knees.

"Dear, if you can figure out what a man is thinking, you should win a Nobel." Eileen joked lightly. "In all seriousness, have you ever thought of just sitting down and trying to talk this out. Secrecy and guessing never really work to anyone's benefit and they're often detrimental."

"We've tried talking before. It always turns out that we end up speaking in our own weird little code that we expect the other to understand. It's as if we're afraid of other people knowing what we're trying to say." Mac explained as she wrung her hands.

"All good relationships, all lasting relationships are built on honesty. It's tough to even be friends with someone that you don't feel you can be honest with. A lot of couples come in here for therapy and the most common complaint that I get is that aren't communicating, or that it's like they're speaking a different language. It's one of the hardest problems to overcome because if you don't learn how to communicate openly and honestly with each other while you're dating, it only tends to get harder when you get married." Eileen Ross leaned forward.

"I know but, I hate having everyone think that just because I'm a Marine, I like to take the lead and charge into every situation. Especially when it comes to something like this. I need to know that he actually sees me as a woman." Mac's words were beginning to pick up in tempo.

"I remember my daughter telling me that you had a similar conversation with her a few weeks ago. In that conversation you told her that it was the officers who were unable to see her as a fellow officer that she should look out for." Eileen retorted.

"Yes, but I know Harm already respects me as an officer, I just like to……" Mac stopped, realizing that she had used Harm's name inadvertently.

"So, this is about Captain Rabb? Well, that does add another dimension to things." Eileen Ross began scratching a few doodles on her notepad.

"How do you figure?" Mac asked, very confused by the psychologist's observation.

"It's simple really. The two of you spent years under the same command, where such expressions would be strictly against regulations. As such, you both searched for a way to express your emotions to the other to arrive at an understanding without directly violating regs. Now that you're no longer under the same command, you are free to communicate openly but rather then do so, you fall back on the familiar patterns of communication which you've used in the past, even though they've produced no tangible results." Dr. Ross concluded. "It's almost like an emotional version of the Stockholm Syndrome. You've held your emotions captive for so long that you're unable to recognize the negative effects of doing so and now you revel in your emotional captivity, almost welcoming it."

"You're saying that I'm doing this to myself?" Mac asked. "That I'm to blame for everything that's happened?"

"Both you and Captain Rabb share some blame for the status of your relationship. You've tried so long to cloak what you're saying under the surface of official business. Can you think of any times where you dropped that cloak an honestly and openly communicated without understanding about your relationship?" Dr. Ross uncrossed her legs but kept them closely together.

"The only time I can think where we scrapped all the cryptology was a few years ago on the steps out in front of JAG." Mac stopped; she was trying to think of the best way to explain what had happened that day. She then decided to follow Dr. Ross' advice. "We agreed to have a baby together if neither of us was in a relationship five years from that point."

"I imagine that would require some pretty concise communication. That's the kind of communication that you need to continue if you want to be able to shape your personal life. Your problem, Sarah, was not that the boundaries were moving, it was that you had an overabundance of them and you were trying to get around them rather then just breaking them down." Dr. Ross got up out of her chair.

"Thank you, Dr. Ross, I think I see things a little more clearly now." Mac got up off the couch.

"Not a problem, dear. Now, I'm rather starved and being as you're a Marine, I imagine that your stomach is acting up as well. What do you say to dinner?" Dr. Ross grabbed her coat and headed over toward the door.

"I'd like nothing better." Mac agreed as they headed out the door.

2416 ZULU

YMCA

FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

"Sturgis, let's stop and divvy up the teams again." Keeter complained as Sturgis stopped dribbling the ball.

"Four losses in a row, too much for the big, bad aviators to take?" Bax picked up the ball and put it under his arm as he and Sturgis walked over to Keeter and Harm who were bent over trying to catch their breath.

"Let's just take a break then Keeter and I can regroup and kick your ass." Harm gave Keeter a pat on the back before walking over to the side and grabbing a bottle of water out of his bag.

"Alright, you two know more about this then I do, what's going on between Harm and Mac? I really have no idea." Bax addressed Keeter and Sturgis but Harm could hear him.

"Anyone who figures that out gets a prize." Sturgis joked as Harm came walking back over to the group.

"Guys, there has to be something better to talk about. You guys cannot seriously be that interested in Mac's and my friendship to devote a whole break to talking about it." Harm took a long drink of his water.

"Sure we can." Keeter gave Harm a pat on the back. "We can rule out certain things right now."

"Like what?" Harm looked over his shoulder to where Keeter had gone to sit in the stands.

"Like the fact that you and Mac have obviously never slept together." Bax answered. "Because you likely still would be."

"That and whenever you two are in the same room there's a rain-cloud of sexual tension that's just waiting to break open." Keeter concluded.

"It's also painfully obvious to us that you're in love with her. I'm pretty sure that she could ask you to do just about anything and you would do it without thinking twice." Sturgis finally ventured his opinion on the subject.

"Come on, Sturgis, you're stretching a little for that one." Harm argued.

"Not really, you enjoyed that kiss at Christmas an awful lot, buddy. I don't even think Bubbles here has ever gone under that long without coming up for air." Bax took a drink and gave Sturgis a pat on the shoulder.

"Harm, we're the oldest friends you've got you can't bullshit us. We've seen you through Diane." Keeter started.

"Great girl." Bax added.

"God rest her soul." Sturgis stated solemnly. "Annie."

"Neurotic." Bax chimed in.

"Obsessive." Keeter added.

"Clingy." Sturgis concluded.

"Let's not forget Renee." Bax looked from Keeter to Sturgis.

"Silicone." Keeter joked.

"Really Clingy." Sturgis chortled, referencing his earlier comment about Annie.

"You guys really don't pull punches, huh?" Harm wasn't sure whether to be angered or amused.

"We just want to know what the hell is going on between you and Mac, I almost slipped up and called her your girlfriend when I first saw you two together." Bax tossed the water bottle back down into his bag. "Though if positive reinforcement is what you need, I'm willing to do that."

"Me too." Sturgis added quickly.

"Why do you guys want me to end up with her so badly?" Harm asked as he sat down in the bleachers.

"Because you so obviously want to." Keeter answered as he took the ball from Sturgis.

"Do not." Harm refuted weakly.

"Bullshit." Keeter tossed the ball at Harm.

"Harm, would you just unpansy and ask the girl out?" Sturgis added, growing slightly frustrated with Harm's stubborn behaviour. "I mean anyone can see that the woman's in love with you." Sturgis wasn't sure whether saying that violated Mac's confidence but he needed to get this office his chest.

"Harm, Sturgis is right, you really need to pick this apple before it falls off the tree." Keeter added.

"Thanks, Jack that was incredibly homespun." Harm got off the bleachers.

"I hate to say it, Harm. Keeter's got a point, you really think it's fair for a girl to be that hung up on you and be put in a constant limbo about where she stands?" Bax stood up from his seat. "I think you owe it to her."

"Whatever guys, you think we could just play basketball?" Harm tossed the ball to Bax.

2453 ZULU

THE WHITE HOUSE

WASHINGTON, DC

Nate Ross had been called in late today. He threw on a suit, even with his arm in a sling recovering from the gunshot wound from the attack on the State Department a few days ago. The limo had taken him on what seemed like a short but silent drive to the White House. What the hell would cause Andrew Russell to call him that late on Sunday? What could be so damn important? When he pulled up to the side entrance to the White House, he saw both the National Security Advisor and the Secretary of Defence climbing out of their respective rides.

Though he was often at odds with Ramsey Harrison, the Secretary of Defence, even Nate couldn't deny that Harrison always seemed to have an inside track on what was going through the President's head. Added to which, Nate had gotten some real respective from Ramsey after handling the situation at the Truman Building that day. "Any idea what's going on?" Nate asked as he climbed out of the limo.

"You mean you don't know either? What could possibly be so important that he would have to tell us in person?" Ramsey asked as he shook Nate's hand in greeting. "How's the shoulder?"

"Sore as hell." Nate answered as he pointed to the sling. "Anything unusual come to you from Military Intelligence or CID?"

"Nothing, you get anything from the CIA?" Ramsey fired right back.

"Nothing from Mike Bradley or Clayton Webb. Probably has something to do with that new man Kershaw that the Vice President had put in the DDCI vacancy. I had advised President Clinton to nix Kershaw years ago for the job and it ended up going to Reid." Nate informed the SECDEF.

"Guess that means your well of information over at Langley is going to be a little drier." Ramsey chortled slightly arrogantly. The two men navigated the long labyrinth of hallways and doorways to the Oval Office, swapping stories and guesses along the way. The two men tapped on the door to the office and awaited being let in. The door was eventually opened and the two secretaries walked in.

"What's this about, Andrew? What could possibly be so important that neither of the two of us would know about it?" Ramsey was slightly indignant about being kept in the dark.

"That's what we were just asking." One of the other cabinet members joined in.

"The Vice President and I were just talking about some rather interesting information that had come here from Langley. Nate, what can you tell me about Iraq?" Andrew Russell looked up at Nate.

"That we were smart to stop when we did during Desert Storm." Nate answered.

"The information we got from Langley included intelligence that indicated that Saddam was pursuing weapons of mass destruction and that he had contacted Osama Bin Laden for the purpose of offering him asylum." The Vice President stepped in to inform the rest of the cabinet. "The purpose of this meeting is to determine, what action we take in response to this new threat."

"Nothing." Nate added simply.

"What do you mean, nothing?" Andrew Russell looked up through his glasses at the youngest member of his cabinet.

"I mean other then a serious review and clearance sale on our intelligence agency. George just tried to sell the biggest load of bullshit that I've heard in my decade in Washington. First, Osama Bin Laden considers Saddam Hussein a bad Muslim and the leader of an apostate Arab state that breeds oppression of Allah's will. He's more likely to kill Saddam then we are. Secondly, the UN has gone over this issue dozens of times, any weapons he had, have been dismantled in accordance with their resolutions and even if he did have some small range chemical or biological capacity, he'd be more likely to use them on the Kurds or the Iranians. So, even on the million to one chance that he does have weapons, they're of no threat to American national interest." Nate took a deep breath.

"So we should just let a tyrannical dictator live and thrive because he presents no threat to us at the present?" The Vice President countered, getting right in Nate's face.

"No, we shouldn't topple his regime because at present, his Baathists and their tyrannical iron hand are the only thing preventing the spread of Iranian power to the Shia majority in Iraq. Besides that point, if we do mobilize our forces to topple Saddam we will be faced will hundreds upon hundreds of miles of porous border that we can't possibly control that will allow Shia support from Iran as well as Sunni support from Syria, Turkey, Saudi Arabia and Jordan to pour in. Our troops will become a target for dangerous Islamic insurgents that we'll have no ability to control and we'll be sitting on top of Baghdad, which aside from Mecca and Medina, is one of Islam's holiest cities, we'll be unnecessarily fostering extremism." Nate argued, shooting right back at the Vice President.

"Boys, either you play nice or I won't hesitate to assign you each to a corner." The President got between the two men.

"Boss, the office is an oval." Ramsey reminded the President.

"Then they can take opposite sides of the room and face the wall." The President shot angrily. "Nate, is what you're saying true?"

"In all likelihood, yes. Keeping in mind that it's been a long time since any one invaded Iraq and a lot of this is based on extrapolation, but in my opinion, I'd bet my commission as a Marine and my M.A on it." Nate replied, settling back down.

"Mr. President, we cannot allow a tyrannical dictator to obtain weapons of mass destruction, especially when he has a history of genocide and the violent repression of human rights." The Vice President pressed his argument.

"We have no choice, George!" Nate shouted. "We're fighting terrorism right now, let's finish that war before we try and start another one, huh? Not to mention the fact that starting this war would only make fighting terrorism harder, not easier."

"We're winning the war on terror, Ross." The Vice President countered.

"Really? Have we caught or killed Bin Laden yet? What about Zawahiri? We control the cities in Afghanistan, sure but our soldiers can't step outside of Kabul, Kandahar or Jalalabad without becoming targets for terrorists. Take this from someone who's actually been a soldier in this war; none of you have ever taken a life and none of you have ever fought a war in the Middle East. Let me tell you something, I've been doing this for a long time. You finish one fight before you start another one. You don't go around chasing oil profits and you sure as hell don't fight the war based on intelligence inflation! When they give you casualty reports, you see numbers. I've seen the lives! So, George before you start telling me about weapons that might not exist and alliances of fiction, you go spend some time imbedded with the 22nd MEU or a SEAL team and then you can talk to me man to man about the Middle East." Nate's words were like venom spit through clenched teeth.

"Some times war is necessary to achieve a goal. This administration pledged to the American people that we would fight a war on terror and this is a part of it." The Vice President was by now just as hot-headed as Nate.

"Then you're doing it without me, I won't be party to deceiving America into going to war. It was wrong in Vietnam and it's still wrong. So, if it's the decision of this administration to go to war, then my resignation will be on the President's desk first thing tomorrow morning." Nate walked over to the door. He stood across the room from President Russell and the Vice President for a few seconds.

"So will mine." Secretary of Defence Ramsey Harrison got up and stood next to Nate. The lines were now clearly drawn in the sand. One by one, members of the cabinet got up and stood next to Nate and Ramsey until only the National Security Advisor was left in the middle.

"Sorry, sir but you hired Secretary Ross as a Middle East expert and if what he's saying is accurate. I see no need to sacrifice American live." She got up and stood next to the rest of the cabinet. Andrew Russell looked at his cabinet members standing across the room from him and he stood in the middle between the Vice President and the rest of the cabinet.

"In the two hundred and twenty-three year history of the Presidency, there has never been a palace coup on this scale. Then again, I had not defined my own position on this issue yet, so without doing that, I guess it's not really a coup. It's my decision as President of the United States, that war against the Hussein regime of Iraq at this point in time would be premature and against the goal of the overall war on terror." President Russell walked over and put a hand on Nate's shoulder. "I do trust you, Nathan."

"Means a hell of a lot, sir." Nate replied.

0113 ZULU

NATE'S CONDO

FOGGY BOTTOM, WASHINGTON DC

Mac and Peach had decided on another girl's night. It was easy for them to both reconcile themselves to the idea since both Harm and Nate were doing their own things tonight. Mac would bring over the dog and the two women would sit around and eat popcorn and watch a good chick flick. "You ever think it will get easier?" Peach asked Mac as she came walking in with a glass of juice in her hand.

"What?" Mac asked as she sat down on the couch and the dog curled up between them.

"You know, being so attached to men who just have so much to do." Peach leaned her head down on the back of the couch.

"First off, Harm and I are not 'attached' in the sense you're thinking." Mac started but Peach interrupted her.

"But you'd like to be." Peach added.

"That's not the point, and even so, Harm's not really doing anything tonight except playing some basketball with his Academy friends." Mac popped a few kernels of popcorn into her mouth.

"Yeah, well there are times I would just like to toss Nate's beeper at a wall. It always seems to go off at the wrong time." Peach lamented in a mock whining tone.

"I've gone through a few experiences like that." Mac chuckled. "Does he take every page?"

"Not every one, most of the time, it's just some rookies over at Truman who pull some bonehead manoeuvre so Nate sends over a senior diplomat to cure everything up. But there are times like tonight when he gets paged, someone uses the words 'emergency' and 'urgent' and he just drops everything, throws on a suit and leaves. He's like Zorro without the cape or the sword." Peach joked.

"Marine dress uniform comes with a Mameluke sword." Mac still had a mouth full of popcorn.

"Okay, so just without the cape then. How _are_ things with you and Harm? I've only been around you guys for a few months but I've laid witness to two kisses in that period and I've heard rumours of a third." Peach playfully elbowed Mac.

"There's nothing to tell, really." Mac's voice had a taken on a nasal defensive quality.

"There was that one kiss in the jungle in Indonesia." Peach raised her index finger.

"That doesn't count, he had a major head injury and didn't know what he was doing." Mac was quick to counter.

"The subconscious is a funny thing. Then there was that night that they had to rush out of the theatre during 'Kiss Me, Kate'." Peach raised her middle finger to join her index finger.

"That was a little unexpected but still it was only a peck on the lips." Mac defended.

"Strayed awfully close to the lips, Colonel." Peach teased. "Now I hear about this steam up the windows, going under for air and not coming back up, passionate embrace that the two of you shared under a sprig of mistletoe in front of very convinced audience."

"That was just Harm showboating for his buddies and keeping with tradition." Mac had come to see that as the only rationale for both of their behaviours that night.

"Okay, well that explains his actions but it doesn't explain yours. You seem to be a very willing participant whenever he gets a little frisky, why don't you just go for it?" Peach sank back into a corner of the couch.

"Why did you wait nine years?" Mac countered quickly again.

"Hey, I made more then one pass at him in nine years. It was mostly his business ethics that kept us apart. Nate had to face losing me to want to keep me." Peach explained.

"Well Harm's had to face losing me before, it doesn't seem to motivate him. I always wondered why it was so damn easy for him to walk away. If he's as in love with me as everyone seems to think then why can't he just go for it. It's like you said, he's got ample evidence that I would be receptive." Mac was getting frustrated.

"Maybe we should just stick to watching chick flicks rather then acting out our own little scenes from them." Peach grabbed the remote and hit 'play' for the DVD.

0132 ZULU

THE WHITE HOUSE

WASHINGTON, DC

All the other members of the Cabinet had gone home but Nate Ross had been told to stay behind. Nate often had enjoyed sitting and talking with the President but he knew that he was going to get reamed for his behaviour at the Cabinet meeting earlier. He had earned it and maybe he had let his own experiences in Desert Storm affect him a little more then he had hoped but there was something about Vice President George Hunt's callousness that just ate at him.

President Andrew Russell came back into the office carrying two beers and tossed one bottle to Nate. "Yeah, I heard you and I had the same taste in beer." Nate mused, hoping to keep the mood light. "Listen, Andrew I want to apologize for my behaviour tonight." The President raised his hand to stop Nate.

"Listen, we all make our mistakes. The fact is that you were right in what you said I just don't appreciate the way you did it. You had a firm belief that you were willing to stake every thing on and you pushed it and you were prepared to push it all the way. That's something to be admired not condemned. I'd just appreciate it if next time you could do it without encouraging defection." The President twisted the cap off his bottle. "George Hunt wanted to see you snap. He wanted to know if he had anything to fear from you. If he could get the better of you and he found out tonight that he couldn't. Nathan, you scare the crap out of that man."

"Why?" Nate asked, suddenly curious.

"It's simple. When I serve out my last term in '08, George is going to run for the Republican nomination for the Presidency and as VP, he'll likely win. He knows that right now you might not have the age or the wisdom for my job but in six years you just might. You've got the brains, the charisma and as you pointed out tonight in no uncertain terms, the record and the leadership qualities to make people follow you. What's worse in his mind is that you're a Democrat. You're not a radical Democrat, you're a middle of the road, blue collar Democrat with all these great attributes and in his mind, you threaten his chances of becoming President." Andrew Russell took a drink from his beer.

"I don't even know if I'm going to run in '08 or if my family situation would allow me to. I couldn't care less about a race that's six years down the line." Nate waved flippantly.

"Yeah, but he doesn't know that. In his mind, the idea of you being anything but as ambitious and driven as your record reads you to be, is a foreign concept. So, for the duration of your stay in cabinet, he's going to try and stand in your way." The President explained as he watched Nate quickly drink down the beer.

"I think I get it now. Sir, if it means anything now, when I was ranting earlier , I certainly didn't mean to take away from your Army service in Korea by specifying the region of the Middle East as the only combat arena that mattered." Nate got up from the couch.

"A lot of what you said was true, you've been fighting this war for a lot longer then anyone who was in that room with you tonight. We all owed you the benefit of the doubt. Next time just remember that you don't have to club us over the head to get it from us." The President laughed as he set his beer down on the table.

"Will do, sir." Nate chortled as he left the office.


	32. There Is Always Some Madness in Love

"Hey Mac, up for lunch?" Peach stuck her head in Mac's office door.

"Would love to, unfortunately I have court against Sturgis in a few minutes. What's up?" Mac slapped her pen down on her desk.

"It is most unfortunately, the birthday of our benevolent Secretary of State. Nate of course is dreading the whole event being as it just reminds him that he's that much closer to turning forty. So, because he would never actually celebrate his own birthday or expect any of us to. I've taken it upon myself to throw him a party, at the condo on Friday." Peach was smiling form ear to ear.

"Why do I hear the most enormous surprise/catch lurking in the background?" Mac as well was smiling by this point.

"It's a costume party." Peach was on the edge of squealing.

"Did you have Lieutenant Sims help you plan this?" Mac asked with an amused expression. Peach nodded enthusiastically. "What time on Friday?"

"Around seven, be sure you give Harm the word would you. I don't have time to run over to the Pentagon today." Peach started heading back toward the door.

"What are you up to today that has you so busy?" Mac asked as she grabbed her briefcase and got up from behind her desk.

"I'm not working at the State Department any more so I need to find some way to fill my days that has some meaning. Nate suggested I find a cause; find something that I was passionate about. I told him that I could run his '04 Presidential campaign. He reminded me that he wasn't going to run in '04. So, I signed up to volunteer for the Susan G. Komen foundation and the USO." Peach and Mac walked toward the elevator.

"The USO? The Ross family must be having a real effect on your inclinations toward the military." Mac's voice carried with it a certain lilt.

"I've always been favourable toward the military. My dad was a Marine you know." Peach stated proudly.

"Really?" Mac was shocked; Peach didn't strike her as the stereotypical Marine Corps brat.

"He was a Master Sergeant; he died in Vietnam in 1972 only a few days after my second birthday. He had been in country for most of my life; I think I only have one real memory of him." The door to the elevator closed around Peach and Mac.

"He wasn't a sniper like Nate was he?" Mac asked, sensing something slightly telling about the whole thing.

"Recon, he was killed during the ARVN Eastertide Offensive that came after our incursions into Laos." The elevator slowly went downward toward the courtrooms.

"You know, every time I learn a little bit more about you, I get to thinking that my first impression of you was wrong." Mac commented.

"Really? What was your first impression of me?" Peach asked, her curiosity peaked.

"It's nothing really." Mac waved dismissively.

"Oh come on, Mac. We're both grown women, there's no need for us to be offended over something so petty. We're friends now, so even if our first impressions were bad, they're not the lasting impression we're making." Peach goaded Mac with a playful elbow to the arm.

"Alright, you won't like it but just remember that you were the one who goaded me into saying it." Mac reminded her. "You just seemed like the oddest personality when I first met you. I mean, you had some obvious Washington savvy but you also came across as one of those sorority girls from the west coast that airhead then genius. I had also never seen such devotion to one man, I wasn't sure whether or not to admire you for it."

"That's a fair assessment I suppose." Peach wasn't exactly sure what to say. "Then again, we didn't exactly meet under the best of circumstances last year."

"The emergency room at a hospital isn't the most conducive setting to great first impressions." Mac chuckled nervously. "So, what about you? What did you think when you first met me?"

"I thought you were a pushy tomboy with a catty streak that I wasn't willing to cross. Then again, there was a lot to admire about you. You were tougher then I could ever hope to be and I'd never seen General Jack Ross respect a woman the way he respected you because you were a Marine Lieutenant Colonel. I guess I admired in you what I felt I lacked." Peach theorized.

"Funny how things like that happen." Mac chortled again as the elevator doors slid open. Mac went toward court to face off against Sturgis and Peach headed toward the parking lot.

1726 ZULU

HARRY TRUMAN BUILDING

FOGGY BOTTOM, WASHINGTON DC

Gunny and Bax walked through the hallway toward the boss's office. It was openly evident to all that Nate Ross had not been in the best off moods in the last week or so. They cautiously walked through the door with their hands above their heads in the Prisoner of War position. "Alright, alright, hands down, I'm not the Gestapo. That's the Vice President's office, it's across town."

"Sorry, boss but your office has become something of a free-fire zone recently. Aside from Peach, we're the only ones who have been able to enter without getting our heads bitten off for something." Bax ventured to comment.

"I have not been that bad." Nate argued.

"Sir, you chewed out your secretary because there was only one sugar in your coffee." Gunny reminded him.

"Okay, so I've been a grizzly bear with haemorrhoids, are you two quite pleased with yourselves?" Nate looked up at two grinning faces. "The last month has been hell. I've been shot, I've been trying to find the right moment to propose to my girlfriend but either terrorists take over the State Department or the President calls me away from my apartment and to top it all off, I think the Vice President got an iron stake up the ass for Christmas because he's become the chief source of my migraines lately." Nate rubbed his temples.

"So you called us up here just to vent?" Bax guessed.

"No, but that helped. I called the two of you up here because the beginning of the year means promotions season over at the Pentagon. The two of you are in good standing because not only is the E-8 board convening next week but so is the O-6 board. Admiral Chegwidden will be sitting as the chair of the O-6 board. Commander Baxter, your record has been selected for review by the board. I just wanted you to know that you will receive an outstanding fit-rep from me, being as I am the civilian leader of the department of the United States government to which you are attached and being as I am a decorated Marine officer, I'm sure the board will impart extra consideration." Bax smiled at Nate's comment. "As for you, Gunny, as you no doubt know, you have choice to make about which path you pursue in the Marine Corps as to what your future career will entail. You can choose to become either a First Sergeant or a Master Sergeant and the board will consider this along with your record when they make the decision whether or not to promote you. For the record, you also will be receiving a stellar fit-rep with my name on the bottom of it." Nate stood up from behind his desk and both Gunny and Bax came to attention and fixed salutes.

"Thank you, sir." Bax rhymed off.

"Not a problem, Commander. You and the Gunnery Sergeant do good work, it's only fair that the two of you be rewarded for it. I look for to being able to give you your Eagles and slap a new set of chevrons on the Gunny's sleeve." Nate smiled for the first time in a long time at work. "Additionally, I think it's fair to mention that should your respective promotions come through, you two have been tasked with the command of a forty man, joint forces unit that has been tasked by the President with immediate response and fast action deployment to State Department emergencies in the war on terror. Commander Baxter, if your promotion to Captain comes through, you'll be in command of this unit and the Gunny will be your senior enlisted officer. It has been suggested by higher ups that you pick a ground-pounder as your XO but I personally think that someone you feel you can trust would be better suited. You'll have your pick of the Special Forces personnel."

"Thank you, sir." Bax nodded.

"Dismissed, Commander." Nate nodded and Bax along with Gunny left the office.

2031 ZULU

JAG HEADQUARTERS

FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

The Admiral called a meeting in his office. Even though Harm was technically assigned over at the Pentagon, he seemed to be spending more and more time over at JAG with the excuse to the CNO that 'in order to perform duties at a maximum efficiency, one must be immersed in a legal environment.' The CNO responded that it was pretty had to crash an F-14 from inside the building at JAG Headquarters so he permitted Harm's visits.

Everyone walked into the Admiral's office to see Reverend Beverly Chegwidden sitting on the edge of her husband's desk with a three mile wide smile plastered on her face. "What do you think put that smile on her face?" Mac whispered to Harm.

"The Admiral must be performing his husbandly duty on an above average basis." Harm joked which caused Mac to role her eyes. Harm proceeded to keep trying to getting her going. He discreetly reached down and quickly pinched her six with two fingers causing her to leap into the air and yelp which brought everyone in the room's attention to her.

"Colonel, did I just hear you yelp?" The Admiral was looking through his glasses at Mac.

"No, sir, I was just momentarily excited by something." Mac replied.

"Riiight." The Admiral got up from his chair.

"I'm so going to get you back for that, flyboy." Mac threatened in a whisper.

"I look forward to it, Colonel." Harm replied in a coy tone, leaving Mac with a shocked expression.

"The reason that I called all of you into my office today is because, in a rare break of decorum on my part, I've decided to share a little personal news with you." The Admiral took his wife's hand. "My wife and I are expecting a new child to join our family in about seven month's time."

Everyone was immediately taken aback for a few seconds before recovering from the shock. "Congratulations, sir," Harm was the first to regain the power of speech, "and to you to, Mrs. Chegwidden."

"Harmon Rabb, how many times do you have to be told to call me 'Beverly'?" Bev lectured playfully as she leaned against AJ's shoulder.

"Congratulations, ma'am." Harriet offered in her own excited, squealing, motherly tone. After a few more pats on the back and extended congratulations, the crowd in the room seemed ready to disperse pretty soon when Harriet and Bud called for everyone's attention. "We were going to wait for a better time to tell everyone but since we all seem to be celebrating pregnancy right now anyway. Bud and I have announcement as well." There was a pause but everyone knew what was coming. "We're pregnant!"

There was a few more minutes of congratulations extended. Harriet and Bev wrapped each other in a big hug; this caused Harm to chuckle slightly and lean in to speak to Mac. "How many more months do you think they'll be able to do that?" Harm asked in a whisper.

"Harmon Rabb, you're bad." Mac whispered in a seductive tone and accompanied it with a saucy wink.

"Well, I try." Harm tossed back and Mac was forced to smile, Harm was definitely acting a little less like himself right now. Mac eyed him suspiciously before heading over with Coates to coo over the pregnant women while the Admiral, Harm, Sturgis and Bud went out to smoke a cigar.

"Rabb, I have no idea what I've got myself into here." The Admiral admitted as he leaned up against Harm's Lexus. "I mean, I figured when I got married that would be it but I never figured that there was a chance I would end up being a father this late in life and I mean, I certainly never intended to."

"Sir, I mean you have some experience with Francesca, it won't be that different with another child. You always told me that one of your greatest regrets with Francesca was that you didn't think that you were there as much as you could have been. You have the chance to be there for this child." Harm let out a slow exhale on his cigar.

"You know, Rabb, I knew there was a reason that I kept you around for seven years." The Admiral and Harm shared a laugh. "Aren't you going to give me some sappy inspirational speech about marriage and love and happiness and the key to life? That will be immediately followed by you glancing over at Mac longingly." The Admiral ventured and Harm's mouth went agape, causing the cigar to fall to the ground. "Son, I'm old but I'm not blind yet. I've noticed things over the last six of those seven years."

"Apparently, everyone has." Harm muttered under his breath.

2356 ZULU FRIDAY

NATE'S CONDO

FOGGY BOTTOM, WASHINGTON DC

Nate had been walking around in a suspicious mood all day. It was his birthday, he was in a very naturally suspicious mood, there were even rumours that anyone being nice to him today would be sent down to Camp Delta for interrogation; and saying 'Happy Birthday' was definitely out of the question. So, when Peach had presented him with this special bathrobe and pyjama ensemble, he accepted it with only minimal hesitation so as to spare her feelings.

Part of what was making Nate suspicious was that Peach had been walking around in his Marine issue beige trench-coat since he'd gotten home and when he'd ask her why she was wearing it, she'd quickly change the subject. "Come on, Nate; let's see how my present looks on you."

"Nicole, I feel like I'm twenty years older." Nate complained from inside their bedroom.

"Nate, if you come out, I'll show you what's under the trench-coat." Peach goaded him knowing that as a man, his natural curiosity would eventually get the better of him. Sure enough, a few seconds later, Nate came skulking out of the room to show off the ensemble and Peach ambushed him. She stuck a grey wig on his head and coaxed a brown wooden pipe into his teeth.

"Nicole, what the heck is going on?" Nate asked, his voice slightly slurred by the pipe in his mouth. "And why do you have pink bunny ears on your head?"

"Honey, you're going to have to trust me." Nicole took his arm and guided him downstairs.

"This coming from the person with pink bunny ears on her head." Nate mused as they continued walking.

"Be nice, or you won't get to see what's under my coat." Peach pointed her index finger at him and it landed on the tip of his nose.

"It's just, they're pink bunny ears!" Nate pointed at them. He stopped focusing on the bunny ears when Peach dropped the trench coat. She was dressed in a Playboy bunny costume. "Okay, I get the point of my attire now; I'm supposed to be Hef. But who was I very good to in a previous life to get you to wear _that?_" Peach flicked on the light and Nate was greeted by a loud roar of 'Surprise!'

Even with the grinch attitude that he had held about his birthday for the last couple of days, Nate was actually smiling and chuckling when he saw all the people waiting for him in his living room. "Alright, I have to say, I'm very impressed." Nate turned and kissed his girlfriend on the cheek. "Thanks, honey."

"Oh, you just go have fun with your friends. You're such a drag when you get all sappy." She gave him a light but encouraging pat on the back. Nate took her arm in his and insisted that the two of them walk down the stairs together. The first people that they met at the foot of the stairs were Harm and Mac. Harm was dressed as a very strapping Mark Antony and Mac was dressed as the kind of Cleopatra that one would expect to see on a Victoria's Secret catwalk rather than at a costume party. Her costume was golden with a string beaded miniskirt that fell just below her six. Of course, this much skin out in the open had caused Harm's protective side to kick into high gear and he had one arm wrapped around Mac's shoulders while the other held a mock Roman centurion helmet under his arm.

"Why, if it isn't Mark Antony and Cleopatra." Nate mused as he and Peach greeted their guests. "Nice to see you, two."

"Well, Mr. Secretary, you're another year older, you think you've gotten any wiser?" Harm asked as he raised his glass of pop to his host.

"Yeah, Budweiser." Peach joked and Nate turned toward her.

"Bad joke, honey." Nate replied with a small chortle.

"Come on, Peach, let's go talk with the girls." Mac and Peach tossed a mean glare at the guys before walking away.

"So, have you had the necessary talk with Mac yet or are you still lollygagging around the obvious attraction?" Nate and Harm went walking through the crowd in the living room.

"Why does everyone suddenly have an opinion about this? Or have you all always had this opinion and now you all simultaneously decided to share it with me?" Harm turned to face his friend.

"Well, being as I can't speak for everyone else, I'll just say that I've observed certain behaviours in the two of you that I can recall seeing in myself a few years back." Nate gave him a pat on the back. "Take a few minutes to summon up your courage and then go to her lad and don't hold anything back when you do." Nate walked away to speak with his brother Steve and Nikolai who had flown in from Moscow just for the festivities. "You look like the bloody Czar!" Nate walked over and gave his oldest friend a hug.

"It's a good costume, if a little tight in the waist." Nikolai replied.

"I'd just be on the look out for anyone dressed as Rasputin." Nate joked.

Harm was standing next to Sturgis (dressed as Detective John Shaft) across the room from Mac who was still standing with Bobbi, Peach, Coates, Bev and Harriet. In his mind she was a greater then Cleopatra herself, after all Cleopatra was only mortal but tonight as she had been before but only in his dreams, Mac was his goddess. He needed her, with an overwhelming feeling that was beginning to consume him It was hell on his resolve, maybe his costume was just having too much of an effect on his personality. His nerves were wearing to a fray. When she looked over at him, he took it as some kind of sign from the Cosmos. A year ago, he had said that there had been a time that he had been in love with Mac, that she was no longer the person that she had been when they were first partners but in the year since then she had become that same Sarah.

Now, all that was coming to a head along with what Mac was wearing and how much of her that was shown to him. Before he could really decide to do so, Harm's legs were carrying him toward her his control was wearing thin, he need to do something to help him regain the control that he had long prided himself on. He turned and jogged out of the party on to the balcony. Harm put his hands on the railing of the limestone balcony and looked over into the city before looking up at the Capitol.

Harm took a couple of deep breaths before he felt a familiar soft hand on his back. His last breath was more ragged. "What's up, sailor? You left in kind of a hurry." Harm turned to face her.

"It's just been kind of a long week I suppose. I mean with everything that's happened and now with you, it's all been a lot on my mind." Harm looked longingly into her big brown eyes.

"Harm, if something's bugging you, why didn't you just come to me?" Mac paused for second. "Wait, you said something about 'now with you', what did you mean by that?"

"Well, it's just that with Reverend Chegwidden being pregnant and Harriet being pregnant again, I guess I just kind of figured…." Harm was interrupted when Mac decided to finish his sentence.

"You figured that I'd want to join the club?" Mac ventured with a smile. "You're funny."

"Do you?" Harm asked, not meeting her gaze.

"Why? Are you thinking of moving up the timetable?" If one listened to Mac closely enough, one could hear the glimmer of hopefulness in her voice.

"I think so, yeah, I mean if that's okay with you… It's just that I…I…I" Harm began to stutter so Mac put one hand on his chest to calm him down but she felt his heart race under her fingertips. "Mac, I don't think I'll ever find anyone better then you to be the mother of my children and I think……I think I'm sick of looking."

"Harm what are you trying to say?" Mac's was no longer trying to hide the hopefulness in her voice. Seven years of waiting seemed to have built to this very moment. Her heart began to race in rhythm to the one that she felt under her fingertips.

"Mac, I'm in love with……" Harm tried to fight his own insecurity, his own cowardice, his own obsessive control but once again getting that last word out proved too much to ask. "I'm in love with the idea of having a family with you."

Mac reeled back for a second and furrowed her eyebrows. That wasn't what she was expecting to hear. It was something, something very good, just not what she was expecting. She opted to hug him tightly rather then actually answer him since the power of speech seemed to be failing her at the moment. The two stood out on the balcony in that embrace for a little while longer before Mac finally got up the nerve to say something. "Harm, I think I've been in love with that idea for a long time."

Harm had to chuckle at that comment. "We're a couple of sentimentalists." He remarked and she playfully slapped him across the chest.

"Way to ruin the moment, flyboy." Mac mused as she leaned in for another tight hug. "You know we have this odd habit about porches at parties."

"Tell me about it." Harm added.

Inside, Nate and Sturgis were standing together, witnessing, without any audio, the scene outside. "You think they finally got it right?" Nate asked as he turned toward Sturgis.

"I've learned that you never take anything for granted when it comes to those two." Sturgis replied before turning to go and find Bobbi. Nate walked over to the stairs and climbed a third of the way up the marble staircase before tapping a fork against the glass that he held in his hand. Everyone's eyes immediately fixed upon him.

"First of all, I would like to extend my thanks to everyone for coming tonight. I would particularly like to thank Lieutenant Harriet Sims and my beautiful and talented girlfriend whom my sources tell me planned this little shindig." Nate stopped for a moment and pondered the ripples in his glass. "You know, every year I dread my birthday because it used to be an occasion on which I looked around and I thought that another year had gone by and I had accomplished so little with my life. This year however was something different because this year I feel as though I've actually done something. I had one birthday wish this year, I wanted to do the most important thing in my life up until this point. I've been trying to do it for a month but I never seem to find the right time.

However, everyone that could possibly interrupt the moment is already in the room tonight, so there's no reason that my cell-phone, home-phone or beeper should go off. Now, if my aforementioned, wonderful, beautiful girlfriend would join me up on the stairs." Nate motioned for Peach who was blushing profusely. She slowly walked up to him, trying to avoid tripping over her heels. "For those of you who don't know the stories, I'm sure that there are any number of people in the room tonight who would be more then willing to tell you. For those who do know the stories, this will seem like nine years in the making." One of Nate's hands was holding Peach's the other was fumbling loosely in the pocket of his birthday gift bathrobe. He turned toward her and she watched as he slowly sank to one knee and pulled his hand out of his bathrobe to reveal a blue velvet jewellery box.

"Nicole, just a little less then a decade ago, you walked into my life and from day one I didn't know what to make of so beautiful, intelligent and talented a woman. Over the years I've been lucky enough to be your friend and even your best friend. Over the last months, I've been lucky enough to be your significant other. Even after all that time, I still don't know what to make of you. I think it's going to take a lifetime for me to figure out. Will you marry me?" Nate paused and looked up into her eyes to see them welled with unshed tears.

"Only you would propose to me while I'm wearing a Playboy bunny costume, you know that?" She mused and Nate, along with the rest of the guests, let out a nervous laugh. "Of course I'll marry you. I've been in love with you for nine years." Nate slid the ring on her finger and she leapt into his arms as applause echoed through the room. Congratulations were soon exchanged in the room and Peach showed off the ring to all the other women while Nate was jeered at, in jest of course, by his closest friends.

It was then that Spinner approached Nate who was talking with the President who was dressed like Hawkeye from the old MASH TV series. "Sirs, we just got news from Langley." Spinner ventured and obviously caught the attention of his seniors. "Boss, do you remember a few years ago when you sent that bill to President Clinton that authorized a NATO embargo on certain materials to North Korea? Among which were materials that we knew would be necessary to the building of a stable nuclear reactor?" Nate nodded his head. "Sir, the bill worked! About an hour ago, the North Korean nuclear reactor blew up."

"Jesus, that's horrible." President Russell answered.

"Damn right it is." Nate added. "How many casualties?"

"Everyone in the facility and the surrounding North Korean military base. Sir, there were North Korean government officials touring the plant today, they were caught in the blast as well." Spinner hung his head.

"What do we do about this?" Nate turned to the President. "I can't help feeling like Oppenheimer right now, I feel like there's blood on my hands."

"Calm down, you didn't encourage them to enrich uranium and considering all possible outcomes, this one was probably the one with the smallest body count." The President put a hand on his friend's back.

"Three cheers for the lesser evil." Nate deadpanned.

And while the news had put a minor damper on the evening it was still a huge success and no one seemed to mind that Harm and Mac spent most of the evening out on the balcony wrapped in a tight hug that neither seemed willing to break.


	33. All Good Things Must Come To An End

"So exactly where are you and the Captain right now, ma'am?" Harriet asked as she and Mac got off the elevator. She and Mac had spent most of the last week talking about this. Well, to be fair, Mac had spent most of the last week talking about this. Harriet had spent most of the last week walking around with Mac nodding her head and asking scant few questions.

"Harriet, I have no damn idea. At the time, I had some idea of where this might be going a week ago but right now I have absolutely no idea. I don't think I have ever been frustrated in my life. I feel like I'm being treated like a girlfriend without actually being a girlfriend." Mac closed the door to her office. She gave her head a shake and walked around her desk toward her chair.

"How many nights have you spent at the Captain's this week, ma'am?" Harriet asked, worried that she might have overstepped her bounds.

"Five. The dog is so used to Harm's apartment now that he's started sleeping between us on the bed." Mac tried to stop that last part from coming out but judging by the look on Harriet's face, she had said it aloud.

"You two are sleeping in the same bed!" Harriet practically squealed, quickly covering her own mouth.

"Harriet, I swear to God if you tell another living soul…" Mac began to threaten but decided to end her sentence short, allowing Harriet's imagination to fill in the blanks.

"Ma'am, I won't tell anyone but this has to be an encouraging action. I mean, one assumes that the Captain doesn't share his bed with just anyone. Then again, he did share it with Miss Peterson." Harriet lightly scratched her chin.

"Don't remind me. It's not that simple though, Harriet. I think we're just trying to be around each other as much as possible because we think it will let us know what we want." Mac paused and let out a very frustrated sigh. "The thing is. I already know what I want."

"So, go out and get it." Harriet encouraged her friend with a light tap on the hand. "If you know what you want, and no one's standing in your way, go out and get it!"

"And just how would you suggest I do that, Lieutenant?" Mac was trying to hide a coy smile behind her question.

"That ma'am, I leave up to you. After all, you're the Marine and a superior officer. I'm sure that you have your ways." Harriet got up from her chair and tossed Mac a quick salute before leaving her office. Mac sat around for a few seconds when she saw Harriet pop he head back into the office. "Just so I'm sure, ma'am. We were talking about you seducing the Captain, right?"

"Yes, Harriet." Mac had to chuckle about how Harriet could still seem innocent even when talking about something like this.

"Just making sure, ma'am." Harriet nodded again and left the office.

2214 ZULU

NATE & PEACH'S CONDO

FOGGY BOTTOM, WASHINGTON DC

Nate opened the door and dropped his briefcase, along with taking off the Marine issue trench-coat that seemed to be a regular fixture in his wardrobe. He hung it up on the coat tree and continued into the apartment when he saw Peach come running down the stairs. She then leapt into his arms. "It's good to see you too, honey."

"Nate, read this." She pushed that morning's issue of the Washington Post into his face.

"What am I reading, dear?" Nate asked as he quickly eyeballed the front page of the paper. He watched as her fingers tapped a newspaper article just below the lead story. Nate quickly read the first few paragraphs of the story. "This has you worried?"

"Doesn't it worry you?" She asked, very surprised by his reaction.

"Honey, I really don't care what anyone in the press thinks. I know you and I love you." He kissed her on the forehead.

"But they're expecting me to throw this kind of gala wedding that's going to be like the Washington social event of the year. None of them think I'm good enough for you, they think you should be marrying some model or actress or something." She began to cry a little and Nate pulled her into a quick hug and cradled her head against his shoulder.

"Shhh, honey, it's okay." He gently stroked the back of her head. "Calm down, okay? You're the only woman I've ever really loved, just try and remember that okay?"

"I know, it's just that there seems to be all this buzz and we don't even have some of the basic things down yet." She wiped her eyes.

"Like what?" Nate asked as he released her from the hug.

"Well, the only thing we have in place right now is a date, we don't have a location or a guest list or anything." Peach began to complain and she grew confused as she saw a wide smile grow on her future husband's face.

"Honey, I took care of the location today at lunch, don't worry about it." Nate slipped his shoes off.

"What do you mean you took care of it? You picked a place without consulting me?" She put her hands on her hips and gave him a rather stern look.

"Honey, don't worry, I picked a place that I know you and your family would approve of." Nate kissed her on the head and walked over toward the stairs. "I talked to Cardinal McCullough today over at St. Matthew's, he booked the Cathedral for us on the Saturday that we wanted."

"In case you're forgetting, Nathan, St. Matthew's is a Catholic Cathedral. You're not Catholic." Peach started moving toward Nate who had stopped in his tracks.

"Sure I'm Catholic, I was baptized by Cardinal McCullough in a private ceremony a few weeks ago. Mike and Becky are my Catholic godparents now, it's all a little weird." Nate chuckled.

"But you said that you didn't want to convert because you were worried about Kennedy comparisons." She mentioned taking his arm lightly.

"Yeah, but marrying you is more important then all that. So, don't worry about it. You just go out and plan your dream wedding, alright?" Nate brought one hand up to cup her cheek.

"Yeah, about that; see, my mom and I were talking and she told me that finances for this might be kind of tight…" Peach wanted to keep talking but Nate raised a finger to her lips.

"Honey, don't worry about it. Nine years of being a single man on State Department salary, has allowed me to build up a bit of money that you can feel free to use for the wedding alright?" Nate stepped back.

"How much is 'a bit of money'?" Peach asked with her arms crossed.

"A hundred thousand dollars." Nate answered and watched as his fiancée took on a shocked look. He waited for some kind of scream and was soon rewarded. Then he was met by a less pleasant sight. About ten of Peach's female relatives came walking down the stairs to see what had happened. That was when Nate headed for the door.

"Honey, where are you going?" Peach asked as Nate slipped his shoes back on.

"Hang out with the guys, I'll leave you girls to your planning." Nate smiled quickly before slipping out the door. Dealing with a room full of female in-laws was not something he was up to right now.

2305 ZULU

HARM'S APARTMENT

NORTH OF UNION STATION

Nate tapped on Harm's door and waited for Harm to answer it. It was hard for him to go anywhere without his two man security detail but now that he was engaged it was a little easier to convince one of the agents to stay at home while only one accompanied him out on errands. Harm opened the door and saw Nate standing there. "You called my office, what did you want to see me about?"

Harm moved aside and let Nate into his apartment. Nate told his Secret Service Agent to stay outside while he went into Harm's apartment. Nate shook off his coat and shoes. "You want a beer first?" Harm asked moving back over toward the fridge.

"Jeez, this must really be bad if I'm going to need a drink." Nate joked as he took a seat on one of the stools next to the island. Harm handed Nate a beer and Nate tilted the beer, forcefully smacking the top and knocking the cap off the beer.

"You know those tickets to the Latin Democratic Caucus weekend that you got me for next weekend down in Miami?" Harm asked and Nate nodded while guzzling down his beer. "I need your help with something."

"What could you possibly need my help with? I already got you the tickets. You need the number of my tailor?" Nate put the beer down on the counter and began to peel off the label.

"I need you to teach me how to dance." Harm blurted out.

"Harm, I saw you dancing at Mike's wedding last year, you know how to dance." Nate replied as he took another heavy and long drink from his beer.

"No, I don't mean that kind of dance, I mean _really_ dance, like you and Mac did at Mike's wedding last year." Harm leaned over the counter. Nate tossed him a confused look.

"Harm, why don't you ask Mac to help you? I'm sure she'd be a much more effective teacher then I would be." Nate walked over to the fridge and got another beer. "If we're going to seriously talk about this, I'm going to need more booze."

"Normally, I would ask Mac, but I'd like to surprise her in Miami next weekend." Harm explained and he watched as Nate chuckled.

"I see your dilemma. I suppose I could teach you how to dance. But I'm going to need you to teach me something in return." Nate replied as he took another gulp on his beer.

"Well, Nate, it's actually really simple. See, when a man and a woman love each other very much……" Harm was smiling until Nate smacked him in the arm.

"Very funny, wise ass. No, I'm getting married and I need to domesticate. I need you to teach me how to cook dinner. I have no problems with breakfast or lunch, it's just big complicated meals that I tend to screw up." Nate explained as he finished his second beer.

"Aren't you marrying into an Italian family? Aren't big dinners kind of their thing?" Harm asked sarcastically.

"Listen, I will admit that I screwed up my first marriage badly…….incredibly badly. But, I'd like to try and do better this time, so, how about it? You teach me to cook at your apartment, I'll teach you to dance at my apartment and we will speak about this to no one else under penalty of the worst thing our imaginations could think of." Nate offered his hand and Harm shook it.

"So, since we're at my apartment, you want to learn how to cook?" Harm gave Nate a slap on the shoulder and the two of them walked over to the stove. Harm spent the next hour with Nate standing over the stove teaching him how to make a vegetarian lasagne and even telling him what to do so that when he got home he could substitute the veggies for ground beef.

About an hour later, Mac came in with a shopping bag draped over one hand. She saw Harm and Nate standing in front of a closed stove door that obviously had dinner inside. They each were holding a beer in their hands and talking back and forth. Mac was discouraged by all this. She had come home tonight with the intention of putting her plan into action, the idea of having to wait only detracted from her resolve and caused those same old familiar doubts to enter her mind.

"Hey, Mac." Nate greeted from the kitchen.

"Hey, you guys what's going on here?" Mac walked over to the kitchen and up next to Harm. "Hey." She nudged him in the side with her elbow. She felt his arm go around her shoulders.

"Hey." He dropped his voice a little as if just for her. Noticing that he was still holding a cooking class, Harm squared away pretty quick. "Uh, we're just, uh…"

"He's teaching me how to cook so I don't screw up being married again." Nate jumped in, ready to save Harm.

"Really? Why do I have a Three Stooges in the kitchen feeling?" Mac played as she headed off toward the spare bedroom Harm had constructed for Sergei, so she could get changed.

"Give us a little more credit, Mac." Harm called after her.

"I thought I was." Mac replied as the door to the bedroom closed behind her. Harm chuckled to himself for a minute before turning back toward the stove. He seemed to pause for a few seconds before looking up at Nate.

"Hey, Nate?" Harm started.

"Yeah." Nate replied.

"What's it like being married?" Harm asked after thinking for a second.

"Mac walks into the room, the two of you have a tender moment and then you ask that question? Something on your mind, Harm?" Nate crouched down to check the lasagne in the stove.

"Objection, the witness is unresponsive." Harm joked as he crouched down too. Nate had to laugh.

"Harm, I really the wrong guy to be asking. I mean, I was married once and it was a complete disaster. Why don't you ask the Admiral? He's been married twice." Nate got back to leaning against the counter.

"Yeah, but the Admiral would launch into this paternal advice spiel that I'd appreciate but would prefer to avoid." Harm answered. "Besides, I'd rather hear it from someone closer to my own age."

"Why not ask Bud then? He's been married longer then I ever was." Nate began to idly tap his fingers on the counter.

"Yeah, but I think you have more of an understanding of what I'm going through." Harm was quick to point out. "You know, with the whole prolonged sexual tension and working relationship that ends up leading in God knows how many directions."

"Yeah, yeah, I know where you're coming from." Nate raised his beer to Harm. "I can tell you this much honestly from experiencing one failed marriage. You will know the morning after the wedding whether you've done the right thing. You will either feel damn certain or damn foolish. I felt damn foolish once and I can honestly say that there is little worse then that feeling. You can be shot or shot down, you can have a heart attack or be heartbroken and yet you will never feel any thing quite as much as you will that morning. If you feel the right thing when you wake up that morning, that is the essence of what it is to be married."

"How exactly would you know all that? Your first marriage was a two year long nightmare as you have mentioned time and time again." Harm reminded his friend.

"I know all that because every morning for the last five months I have woken up to the same face. She is the one woman who has stood by me through the worst things that my life has thrown at me and when I see her sleeping next to me only two things run through my mind. One, that I want to protect her for the rest of my life and two, that I want to wake up looking at her for the rest of my life and if you can fill those two criteria, you can then consider marrying someone." Nate and Harm clinked their beer bottles together.

"You know for a man with a slow leak in his head, you think pretty good." Harm joked and the two of them shared a laugh.

2334 ZULU THE NEXT DAY

NATE AND PEACH'S CONDO

FOGGY BOTTOM, WASHINGTON DC

"For the last time would you be a man and lead!" Nate grabbed Harm's arm and hauled himself up off of the floor. "See, this is why I wanted you to have a female tutor, your missing a necessary element for Latin dancing."

"What? What am I missing?" Harm asked her got Nate to his feet.

"There has to be a certain heat between you and the person you're dancing with. I can teach you the steps, that's not the hard part but the rhythm has to develop naturally." Nate explained. "Now, this time, just try not to dump me on my ass." Nate walked back over the stereo and started playing the song again. The two of them assumed the same starting position that they had been using all night. "If you screw up this time, Harm, you will find this Marine far less forgiving then the one you're trying to impress. Now, get it in gear, Squid!"

The music started and Harm began to lead the tandem around the empty floor in Nate's living room. Unbeknownst to either of them, Peach was in the crouched position on the stairs with her handheld video-camera at the ready filming every moment of this supposedly impromptu rehearsal. She knew from years of experience that Nate was a good dancer and that he was by nature pretty generous but she never thought that he would combine those two traits in this manner.

She had to chuckle, she had close to forty-five minutes worth of pure gold comedic material on film now and the only question was how to share it with the world. She had been feeling queasy for the last few days so, she ran off to the bathroom but she made sure that the camera was position so she didn't miss recording one minute of the hilarity that was ensuing in her living room.

Sure enough, Harm had swung one leg the wrong way and sent Nate crashing to the floor again but just as he was falling to earth, Nate swung leg out and tripped up Harm sending the Naval Aviator crashing down to hardwood floor. Both men had the wind knocked out of them but when they recovered, they too had to laugh. "You think we should call it a night?" Nate asked, still lying on the floor.

"I think we should call the whole game on account of rain." Harm joked as he sat up. "I just wish I could get this right, you know?"

"Yeah," Nate grunted as he sat up, "I know." He propped himself up against the back of the couch. "You'll get it right eventually. When you actually do this for good, you'll have the motivation you need to get it right."

"I owe you so big for teaching me this." Harm laughed as he sat next to Nate.

"Don't mention it." Nate waved his hand flippantly. "Seriously, don't."

"I just," Harm paused, "I love Mac too much to screw it up again you know?" Harm started.

"Trust me, buddy, I understand." Nate gave Harm a pat on the knee as he got to his feet.

"I mean, I talked to the President, I talk to you and all I hear is that I really have to go for it. This was the only thing I could think of." Harm got up and followed Nate into the kitchen.

"Beer?" Nate offered.

"I think we've earned one." Harm replied. Nate opened the fridge and tossed Harm a beer. The two men pulled the caps off and cheered to each other by raising their bottles before downing a drink.

"Listen, Harm, you're doing the right thing here, it's just that you've second guessed yourself for too long to stop but think about it. You're whisking her away to Miami to attend the biggest ball of the year and you've learned how to dance the way she likes just for the occasion. You're not leaving any doubt on this one, but your mind is trying to create some." Nate reassured his friend with a pat on the back before moving toward the door. "Now, go home to your best friend and your dog and I'll see you later alright?"

"See ya, buddy." Harm set his beer down on the counter in the kitchen, walked over to the door, grabbed his coat and headed out the door. Nate closed the door behind his friend and headed toward the stairs. Thank God for January, it was too damn cold in the Northern Hemisphere for anyone to be pissed off enough to kill each other in any new conflicts that would rouse the attentions of the State Department. Nate headed upstairs and into his bedroom.

He found his soon-to-be wife sitting on the bed with a multitude of open bridal magazines that she was flipping through. Nate was no dummy however, years of knowing him might have led peach to be slightly more cautious with her body language but in many ways with him, she was still an open book. He saw all the signs in the room that led him to ask the obvious question. "You got sick again, huh?"

"Wha? How could you tell?" Peach looked up in surprise and Nate pointed to the path of frantic chaos that led from the side of the bed to the en suite. "I forgot that I live with Sherlock Holmes." She shot sarcastically.

"Honey, you don't think that you could be?" Nate refrained from finishing his question.

"No, it's not possible, my mother would kill me." Peach slapped the open magazine firmly.

"Funny, I don't remember them mentioning that as a contraceptive during health class in school." Nate joked as he sat next to her on the bed. He began to lightly rub her shoulders. She leaned back against his chest. "You know, it's okay if you are."

"I know, I just wish for once we could do things in the normal order rather then having to chart our own course all the time." She lightly stroked his forearms as she cuddled against him.

"I know, honey." Nate kissed the top of her head. "I know." That was how the two of them fell asleep.

2407 ZULU SATURDAY

NATE AND PEACH'S CONDO

FOGGY BOTTOM, WASHINGTON DC

Peach had a brilliant brainstorm early on Thursday and had planned a Girls Night fro Saturday based on that particular brainstorm. She had slid a certain tape into the VCR and was waiting for all her guests to arrive. She had sent Nate off with the specific instruction of co-ordinating a Guys Night to keep them busy at some place that was not their Foggy Bottom Condo. So, Nate and the guys ended up playing poker at Harm's place.

At just after seven, the first of Peach's guests arrived when Mac and Harriet showed up. Peach welcomed them into the apartment and pointed them toward the couch, TV, Popcorn and Ice Cream. The girls all took their seats and waited for the other guests. Eventually, one by one, Beverly Chegwidden, Senator Bobbi Latham and Petty Officer Coates showed up at the condo and took their seats around the television.

Once she realized that all her guests were present, Peach proceeded to hold court in her living room. "The film that you are about to see, CNN would kill to get their hands on. It is probably the funniest film I've ever shot." Peach returned to the couch with the VCR remote and flopped back down on the couch.

The TV screen flipped on to show Nate and Harm from the previous Thursday in the middle of their dancing lesson in the living room. The women watched as the music came on and Nate tried unsuccessfully to try and get Harm to move smoothly to the up tempo beat. Sure enough, after a few seconds of video, Nate was flat on his back on the floor and the girls watching the tape were howling with laughter. "How did you get this on tape?" Bobbi asked looking up at Peach who was laughing hysterically on the couch.

"I have my ways, Senator." Peach tossed back coyly.

"So, that's where Harm was Thursday night. He said he was out chasing down an intelligence report over at the J. Edgar Hoover building." Mac commented aloud as she pointed at the TV.

"Waiting for your sailor to come home, Colonel?" Peach joked light-heartedly.

"Well we all wait for something, like for a friend to tell her fiancé why she's been getting sick all week." Mac hinted none too subtly. There was massive attention drawn away from the TV toward the couch.

"Let's just get back to the movie, ladies." Peach tried to refocus everyone and did so successfully.

"Why were they doing this?" Harriet asked as she took a big scoop out of her bowl of Ben & Jerry's.

"That's coming up in a minute." Peach indicated. The ladies sat there for forty minutes watching the two men make complete fools out of themselves as they tried to dance and Nate tried to instruct Harm who seemed to have two left feet. Every time Nate took a tumble to his back there were groans of sympathy extended his way but the laughs went right on into the night.

"Hey, why did the camera angle change?" Bev asked, pointing her spoon at the TV and trying to politely disguise the fact that she had a mouthful of mint chocolate chip ice cream.

"I had to put the camera down for awhile. I wasn't feeling too good so I went to the powder room." Peach smiled quickly.

"Morning sickness will do that to a woman." Mac remarked as if in passing and she caught a nasty glare from Peach. "So, you mean, you've never seen this part of the tape either?"

"Nope." Peach shook her head. "So everyone be really quiet, I don't want to miss anything." The room fell silent so that everything on the video could be seen and heard but nothing could prepare them for what they were about to hear, even if the subject matter wasn't a complete surprise.

It all started after Nate and Harm both fell to the floor. "_You think we should call it a night?"_ The Nate on the video asked.

_"I think we should call the whole game on account of rain."_ The Harm on the video said as he sat up. _"I just wish I could get this right, you know?"_

_"Yeah, I know. You'll get it right eventually. When you actually do this for good, you'll have the motivation to get it right."_ The Nate on the video reassured.

_"I owe you so big for teaching me this." _ The Harm on the video offered.

_"Don't mention it. Seriously, don't."_ The Nate on the video answered.

_"I just, I love Mac too much to screw it up again, you know?" _The Harm on the video offered and suddenly the room felt deathly still everyone had heard the words and by now they couldn't tear their eyes off the television if they tried. They paid incredibly close attention to everything that was being said right up until the video cut away and ended. When it did, they just looked around at each other. Then Bobbi piped up.

"Hey, where did Mac go?" Bobbi posed and knowing smiles were exchanged. There could be little doubt as to where Mac had gone.

SAME TIME

HARM'S APARTMENT

NORTH OF UNION STATION

"Alright, Master Sergeant, ante up." Harm goaded as he glanced over his cards at Gunny who had recently been promoted. There were two poker tables at Harm's apartment on this night. One sat Harm, Keeter, Bax, Sturgis and Gunny; the other sat the Admiral, Bud, Nate, General Jack Ross and Clayton Webb. Gunny tossed a few chips into the centre to appease the others at his table. "How's it going over at your table, Bud?" Harm asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Sir, the Marines are cleaning up. Mister Webb is out of chips and I'm running out, too. Thank God we aren't playing for money, sir, I think Harriet would kill me." Bud stammered a little as he looked down at his cards.

"The little woman giving you troubles, Bud?" Nate asked teasingly. The room hung heavy with cigar smoke as pretty much everyone had a stoagie hanging from their teeth.

"Don't taunt him too much, Nate, you're going to have a little missus of your own soon enough." Bax reminded his boss.

"I'll have you know _Captain_ Baxter," Nate acknowledged Bax's recent promotion, "that there is no dispute as to who is the man in my household."

"And I'll have you know, son that if you wish to have a happy household." General Jack elbowed the Admiral and the two of them collaborated for the last part of the advice. "You just nod your head and say 'yes dear'." There was mass laughter in the room and a few more cards were thrown down on the table. Big howls of victory were heard from Keeter and General Jack as they collected the respective pots.

A knock came at the door and Harm got up to answer it. "Looks like Hammer's poker instructor has finally arrived." Keeter joked as he bent over the table to corral his winnings. Harm laughed sarcastically as he got to the door. He opened the door wide and he only got to see Mac for an instant before she launched herself at him. The years of a constant swirling cosmos of sexual tension had finally exploded in that second as Harm took her into his arms and stumbled back into the apartment.

"If that's what poker instructors do nowadays, I'm looking through the yellow pages when I get home." Keeter remarked and Sturgis rewarded him by smacking him upside the head. There was a round of applause from everyone in the room. Gunny let out a wolf whistle and the Admiral shouted 'About Damn Time!" from his spot across the poker table. Bax, Sturgis and Nate took it upon themselves to usher everyone out of the apartment to let Harm and Mac talk. "Come on, guys let's get out of here, these two have a lot to discuss." Bax coached as he pushed people out the door.

"Somehow, I don't think there'll be much talking involved." Webb remarked sarcastically.

"Where'll we go?" Keeter pondered aloud.

"We'll go to my place, I got a case of thirty year-old Scotch that's just waiting to be opened." General Jack offered.

"To the General's!" The Admiral hollered as the emptied into the hallway.

"Congratulations, you two." Nate offered as he closed the door behind the rambunctious group. Mac and Harm were left looking at each other, slightly breathless. Just as Harm moved into say something, the door opened again and Sturgis walked in.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry, just came to get the cigars, I'll be out in two seconds." He rambled as he grabbed the cigar box and dashed back toward the door.

Harm and Mac were left looking at each other yet again. Harm went to say something but Mac stopped him. "Harm, we screwed this up once because we weren't communicating so let's just keep it simple this time?" Mac offered and Harm nodded as he kissed the fingertips that were being pressed against his lips. "I love you and I want to be with you. Do you want to be with me?" Granted the question seemed so easy after she had said it but she still now felt like she was skydiving without a parachute. Harm nodded. "Good." Mac wrapped him up in another kiss. After a few seconds they broke again. "Anything to add?"

"I love you too, Mac." Harm was trying to catch breath.

"That's all I ever needed to hear." Mac replied

_The End_

_A/N: What a long strange trip it's been. You remember back in Chapter Once when we asked you guys to trust us? Well, we didn't betray that trust we hope. We thank you for all the reviews and support, we really couldn't and probably wouldn't do this if it weren't for you guys. We know we have to finish SYCMIOYO and we're only three chapters from the end there too so, we're going to say goodbye to another undertaking sometime soon._

_Once we finish SYCMIOYO, we're going to start a new story and we have two ideas for a new story, we just want to know which one you guys like more._

_Reunions: Glory Days: The kids of the gang from our story 'Reunions' navigate their way through their teenage years, they deal with all the pressures and social realities of their current climate with their JAG parents their to help them along. Then again, they wouldn't be Rabbs, Keeters, Roberts', Baxters or Turners if they didn't get in a little trouble, right?_

_Stars on our Shoulders: Five years after 'Three Wise Men', the 2008 Presidential Race is about to kick off and it will launch a sequence of events that will determine the fates of the gang at JAG and America as they know it. The Rabbs struggle to balance the demands of their jobs and the demands of their family and the Ross' look to make their impact on America and the world and of course both families will need the rest of the JAG gang to make it work. Another JAG/DC crossover. _


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